The Time Turning Elixir
by Reyem
Summary: An unexplainable obsession causes Hermione to risk all that she knows to try and save her formidable Potions Master from his ill-doomed fate.  Will her efforts destroy the future of the Wizarding Race?  WIP HG/SS w/HG/RW
1. The Silent Portrait

_A/N: This plot bunny was wrecking havoc on my brain for months before I gathered the courage to pen it. The story and events continue to unravel and spin, continually changing from my original ideas, and that's okay. However it flows from the mind to the computer screen is what creates the ideas into the actual story. Being an avid musician, I'm used to the experience of turning the ordinary into art. And it's just as intoxicating in writing as it is for singing. _

_ It also helps that J.K. Rowling created such a wonderful and awe inspiring universe. _

_Please leave any kind of feedback and constructive criticism you have for this story. Every bit of input impacts the outcome of the fanfic. _

_And now, for your enjoyment, I'm proud to introduce The Time Turning Elixir._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE: THE SILENT PORTRAIT**

Hermione Granger was numb for the past few months. Constantly waiting for her own life to get back to normal (or as close to it as possible), she assumed that going back to school would break the numbness in her soul. Being a 'know-it-all,' she soon realized her assumptions were correct. However, she hoped the numbness would be replaced by something akin to happiness. Not distraught, sadness, and anxiety with a touch of anger.

She felt that she no longer belonged at Hogwarts, but nevertheless, Hermione continue to walk the path up to the school gates. At least they allowed her to travel by her own means. Her trunk was magically shipped of to the inside of the castle. Hermione felt her other bags slip from the clammy grip of her hands and stopped to adjust the weight to make it secure. She then realized her legs were shaking.

_Get a grip, Hermione. It's not like you are some ruddy first year,_ she viciously thought.

True, she was used to the environment at Hogwarts. Perhaps too comfortable. It was almost as if she had a special entitlement to the grounds. She thought back at the numerous times she and her friends purposely broke school rules and narrowly escaped expulsion.

_Dumbledore's Army. Three headed dogs. Polyjuice Potion. Shrieking Shack and Time Turners…_ she shook her head, willing those past memories to subside. Her line of thoughts only continued to lead back to one particular thought.

_Person._ She reminded herself.

Sighing, she dropped her parcels in the Great Hall as soon as she arrived. She checked her watch, wondering what time Harry and her boyfriend would be arriving. She requested to travel alone.

But she then realized she'd been requesting that for sometime now.

It had been nearly three months since the fall of Voldemort in these very walls. She looked all around her, noting that any evidence of war, death, and destruction was far to come by. Everything was back to normal.

But some scars could never be erased.

Willing herself to ease her mind, Hermione made her way up the stairs to report to Headmistress McGonagall. Despite the younger woman's protests, McGonagall still deemed it necessary to make her Head Girl. Eventually, she grudgingly accepted the task presented to her for the next nine months.

"_Professor, it wouldn't be fair to the students below me who tried their hardest to complete their studies. My chance was last year and I willingly chose not to be here. I can not accept the title."_

"_Miss Granger, I could not think of a better woman to help me restore this school to order. Even though it may seem like things are running smoothly, you will discover that the damage done is worse for the wear."_

She purposely arrived hours before the rest of the students got off the train. She wanted to avoid any type of crowd situation. However, at this very moment, she wished for some kind of distraction. Noises, talking, murmurs of spells being practiced. Anything to drone out the deafening silence of the corridors.

Usually the quiet of the empty castle would comfort her. Today was an exception.

She whispered the password to the Headmistress's office, and climbed her way up the spiral steps.

"Miss Granger!" she was greeted by the older woman as soon as the door was open. "I didn't expect you would be arriving so soon."

Hermione set down her bag next to an empty chair. "Well, I wasn't too keen on travelling by train this year. I spent some time in Hogsmeade catching up on what I missed last year and just enjoyed the quietness."

McGonagall chuckled. "I see the Weasley's have been gracious to you."

Hermione smiled gently. "As always, Professor. Don't get me wrong. They are wonderful. But sometimes the noise is a bit unbearable. I can't hear myself think."

The teacher chuckled and adjusted some papers on the desk. "Is Ronald waiting for you downstairs?"

Hermione shook her head and avoided the concerned gaze coming from the older woman at her response. "No. He'll be arriving with Ginny and Harry later on today."

McGonagall adjusted her glasses. "Miss Granger. It's understandable you are still facing some horrors from the past few months. But it is not healthy to be keeping it all bottled inside. Do you have anyone to speak to about this? Perhaps Potter or your beau?"

She shook off her concern. "Do not worry, Professor. I'm dealing with issues, yes, but I'm moving along. Besides, Harry and Ron lost a lot of things too." She shifted in the chair, observing her clenched hands as if they were mildly interesting. "Ron was lucky enough to be distracted by helping out his brother with the joke shop after Fred died," she swallowed hard, not wanting to think about the loss, "But he seems to be looking toward the future instead of dealing with the past. It's working for him. It should for me as well."

"I sure hope so. But you know you can talk to me at anytime." Her tone of voice was all too maternal.

Hermione only managed to nod in response.

McGonagall stood up. "Let me fetch you some papers on these upcoming months. It's just about your duties as Head Girl and such. I think I left them in the other room. Be right back."

As she left the room, Hermione let out a long sigh. A year ago, she would have gladly wanted to be safe in the confines of the castle. But last year Hogwarts was a horrific place to stay. Maybe in the long run she was safer in the sporadic locations she and her friends apparated to.

Nevertheless, after enduring all they did the past year, being back at Hogwarts seemed unimportant. But she understood that she could not advance any further into the wizarding world without completing her education. And she would have to endure it.

Hermione took in her surroundings. Her heart ached as she realized how different the office appeared compared to Dumbledore's. The old man had trinkets and moving objects all around the room. A phoenix used to perch in the cage behind the desk. Now, the only thing that seemed consistent was the sword of Gryffindor mounted on the wall next to the stand where the beat up Sorting Hat rested.

_Perhaps she just needs more time to decorate,_ Hermione mused, not liking the bareness of the walls, save for the sword and the numerous portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts.

Her breath got caught in her throat. Past Headmasters? She turned her shoulder to observe the sleeping portraits. She couldn't help but smile at Dumbledore's, who was currently scratching his nose in his sleep. But continuing down the line, her eyes met the newest addition to the fold.

Except he wasn't sleeping. Nor was he looking at anything in particular. Severus Snape simply looked off in the distance, as if he did not want to make eye contact. His lank, dark hair framed the side of his face, covering most of it from view. Hermione would have thought it was a muggle painting if she didn't see his locks drift slightly as he exhaled.

Hermione stood up from her chair to get a better look at her former Potions Master's portrait. If he noticed her abrupt movement, he didn't reveal it, for he continued to look out in the distance.

"Professor Snape," she whispered.

She swore she saw him stiffen at the sound of her voice. But he didn't react beyond that. "Professor," she whispered again.

He must have recognized sorrow in her voice, because the next thing Snape did was turn his head to make eye contact with her. His black, endless orbs meeting her dark ones. They simply stared, neither wanting to make the next move.

Being the brazen Gryffindor she was, Hermione slowly raised her hand and gently brushed the canvas on Snape's portrait. She could feel the tears stinging in her eyes, her breath catch in her throat as her fingertips ran across the uneven surface. All the anger she managed to close up inside her threatened to explode at this man's undoing.

Revelation dawned on her as she continued to tenderly stroke the canvas. The tears spilled down her face and she fervently shook her head, not wanting what her conscious revealed to her to be true. But she couldn't take it anymore.

"Why did you have to die?" she choked. "You were murdered for no just reason. You didn't have to die!" She whispered the last statement over and over and over, slowly losing control of her emotions.

Snape simply closed his eyes and shook his head. In his Snape-ish way, the look he gave her stated he wanted none of her sympathy.

McGonagall reentered the room just as Hermione collapsed on the floor. She saw Snape get up from his chair and walk out of the portrait. She sighed. More often than not the man left the confines of the painting, and no one seemed to know where he ventured to.

More pressing matters were to be called upon. The young woman was sprawled on the floor, tears relentlessly falling down her face as she tried to gain control back. It was obvious Hermione never got her emotions out about the war. This girl needed to talk to someone about the losses she faced.

McGonagall rushed to Hermione's side and knelt down to pull her into her motherly embrace. She hushed her like a mother would comfort her injured child. Hermione gripped the woman's outer robes as if it could rescue her from the horrors of her past. Slowly, after it felt like hours of crying on the older woman's shoulder, Hermione managed to gather her composure.

She pulled away, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief McGonagall gave her. "I apologize, professor. I don't know what came over me."

McGonagall shook her head. "It's obvious that you haven't dealt with what happened properly, Miss Granger.

She stiffened in defense. "I'm fine, professor. Just a moment of weakness. Everyone's entitled to them."

The Headmistress raised an eyebrow. "A moment of weakness? You call collapsing on the floor in a heap of tears and screams simply a moment?"

Hermione stood up and hastily straightened her robes. "I just lived through a bloody war. Am I always supposed to react rationally after something like that? I didn't think so. Don't press the issue any further than it has to."

McGonagall noted how Hermione averted her gaze from the opposite wall, and she turned to see the portrait frame Snape walked out of. He still did not return.

She sighed and stood up. "What did Professor Snape tell you?" she asked matter of factly.

Hermione, for the first time in her career at Hogwarts, was generally upset with her former Transfigurations teacher. "Minerva, he's dead. And right now, you are insulting his memory by accusing him of saying something to offend me. He's dealt with prejudice all his life. And you repay his sacrifice by assuming he insulted me?"

Hermione could swear she saw something shift in the empty portrait from the corner of her eye.

McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to phrase her statements in a way without offending the younger witch. "Miss Granger, you and I both know Professor Snape wasn't the friendliest man in the school. He always had a sharp, dagger-like response that could make the coldest man flinch at the sound. You usually have your wits about you, so is it a crime for me to assume that he made you lose your temperament?"

Hermione simply shook her head and began to read over the papers the Headmistress handed to her. "If anything, professor, he's the one who would remind me that there are greater things at stake than just the Boy Who Lived. Everyone had to play their part."

They both stood up. McGonagall sighed as she approached her desk and sat behind it. "Yes, I always seemed to be hard on the boy at school, and again while he began teaching. Perhaps I'm just a bit…frustrated and concerned that his portrait is nothing like his true self."

"Meaning what exactly, Professor?"

McGonagall glanced gently at the still empty painting. "Meaning that in so far of my instatement as Headmistress, the only thing he has spoken to me about is how to permanently destroy his portrait."

Hermione's glance met the spot where McGonagall was gazing sympathetically. "It's just not fair, Professor."

"Miss Granger, nothing about the war was fair. So many innocent lives lost. It's a shame and a loss on everyone, but even magic cannot change what has happened. We must accept what we have, and continue to prosper with the memories they left with us."

Hermione didn't want to have another emotional episode like before, so she quickly bid the professor goodbye. Before she left, however, the Headmistress spoke out again.

"Miss Granger, before I forget, the Ministry would like to have a word with you, Ronald, and Harry about some final ties with the war," McGonagall explained while reading over a letter. "Tomorrow evening at seven, here, if it wouldn't be a problem."

Hermione nodded while reaching for the doorknob. "Of course, Professor. And I will let the boys know as well." She quickly glanced over her shoulder, wishing she could get another glance at the portrait.

It was still empty.


	2. Order of Merlin

**CHAPTER TWO: ORDER OF MERLIN**

Ron was joking merrily with Harry and Hermione. The fire crackled merrily in the grate, warming the familiar common room. The trio exchanged treats and smiles as they relaxed in the comfortable armchairs. Ron could not feel luckier than at that moment. The lot of them, enjoying each other's company, beat all odds last spring. He learned that moments like these were not to be taken advantage of.

He reclined back into his chair and sighed, swirling the remaining contents in his bottle of Butterbeer. A small smile broke on his face as his little sister approached Harry from behind, wrapping her petite arms around him in an embrace and giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

His glance then landed on Hermione. She was listening adamantly to Ginny's recollection of the train ride, and she was laughing particularly hard at something the red head said. Hermione then turned her head to meet his gaze, and her smile simply showed nothing more but love and adoration. For him.

Yes, he truly was lucky. Lucky to have survived. Lucky to have a decent job prospect with his brother upon graduation. And blessed to be in love with a wonderful, brilliant woman, who equally returned the affection.

Their relationship had grown difficult once the initial shock of the war wore off. Hermione was grateful for the fact the majority of her friends and loved ones survived, but she had a difficult time letting go of the ones she lost. He had allowed her to mourn on his shoulder about Fred, Remus and Tonks. But he still felt she wasn't being completely honest with him about everything. She still was enclosing some of her emotions.

Ron felt guilty for distracting himself more with the joke shop than his attempts to comfort Hermione. George was a wreck after the death of his twin brother and business partner. It was Ron's goal to have the store running smoothly for the lonely twin's sake. He spent countless hours going over business plans of expansion with his older brother, and setting up a fund to remember Fred. George and Ron bonded over their loss, and in a way they were almost back to their old selves again.

He was happy to be back at school. A part of him didn't understand why he had to return. Helping Harry destroy the Horcruxes should be allowed to replace N.E.W.T. exams, he thought. But nothing was permanently set in stone. He decided that this year would be dedicated more to the woman he loved, rather than his studies. He would sooner graduate with the lowest scores on the exams than without Hermione on his arm.

And he intended to prove that to her with the ring that rested inside his pocket.

Ron didn't know when he was going to propose to Hermione. He just knew that she had to be his wife. He would rather face the Dark Lord again than hear her say no.

Ron watched many thoughts rush through Hermione's face as she stared into the crackling fire. He worried about her, wondering if she was making out better than she made it appear. "'Mione, love. What's on your mind?" he asked.

Hermione quickly turned her head at the sound of Ron's voice. She smiled gently. "Nothing, Ron. Just going through what McGonagall told me today. Oh, that reminds me," she straightened up in her armchair. "Ron, Harry. McGonagall wants to tie up some loose ends about the war and the final battle. Are you two free tomorrow evening?"

"Oooh, I wonder if it's what Kingsley wrote to you about, Harry." Ginny interjected.

Hermione's brow went up. "Kingsley? What did he want? You'd think he'd be busy getting the Ministry back in order after being instated as Minister."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure. But he mentioned he's stopping here tomorrow evening and he requested to see me."

"Interesting." Ron exclaimed. "It must be some kind of clearance for facts or something like that. Can't imagine it would be anything beyond that."

"I guess we'll see," Hermione said before she yawned. Ron chuckled. The woman was simply adorable to him. She rolled her eyes teasingly and stood up to leave. "I'm going to bed. See you in the morning?"

Ron stood up and reached to pull her into an embrace. "Of course. Goodnight, Hermione." He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, and she smiled gently at him.

After bidding the rest of her friends a good night, she left the comforts of the common room to head to her private dormitory. Being Head Girl had its perks, after all.

It was a floor below the Gryffindor common room, so she began making her descent down the stairs where her belongings resided.

Despite the landslide earlier in the day, she was glad that her mood improved as the day progressed. Harry and Ron reminded her that her future was bright. Sometimes, their pointless conversations about Quidditch and food were aggravating to her brilliant mind, but today it was exactly what she needed. And Ron was good to her.

She smiled as she thought about him. She deeply loved him. He was sympathetic, kind, funny, honorable, and he wanted to prove to her he could take care of her. To provide for her.

He definitely came a long way from the gangly freckle faced red head she met in her first year. And she was proud of him. Her best friend, companion, and hopefully her future husband and father of her children.

Thinking of their future together sent butterflies soaring in her stomach, both of anxiousness and happiness. But as soon as those would flutter, a gut wrenching guilt hit her. Hermione knew she wasn't being honest with him.

Ron lost a lot more in the war than she did. Her parents' memories were restored and they were safe once more. She didn't lose a direct family member or close friend. Many mentors, yes. But not a loved one. Not once did Ron go numb at the loss of his brother. He instead created a promising future for himself and George. Hermione could not say the same for herself.

Reaching her rooms and saying the password, she threw her belongings on the floor next to her trunk at the foot of her bed. She had a long day a head of her and wanted to get to sleep as soon as she could without being bombarded with her usual train of thought.

Too late.

At least the image of Snape in her mind wasn't the horrific one she witnessed as Nagini attacked and killed him. But on the other hand, seeing the slight glimmer of happiness as he met Harry's green eyes, _Lily's eyes_, was better than the dead, hopeless one she met in the Headmistress's office that afternoon.

She sighed and sat on her bed. Hearing about Snape's undying affection for Lily Evans Potter made her second guess her emotions for Ron. Did she love him as much as Snape loved Lily? Could she possess the ability to love someone that greatly, to sacrifice his dreams to honor the memory of a loved one? To protect the physical evidence that she loved another man? And not just another ordinary man, but one that he loathed with every fiber of his being.

She shook her head. These thoughts made her wonder how in the world Snape was sorted into Slytherin to begin with.

Slytherins were known to have bold determination. Sacrifice and steadfast loyalty was reserved for Hufflepuffs. But then again, what Snape did required a large dose of courage and bravery. Traits of a Gryffindor. And he had a brilliant mind. Ravenclaw.

Every witch and wizard had some traits of all houses, she discovered.

The moonlight shined through her window, giving her a beautiful view of the lake. She saw the waters ripple slightly with the breeze. In the distance, she could make out the silhouette of Dumbledore's tomb, restored after Voldemort broke into it for the Elder Wand.

And the thoughts rushed back. The reason why Snape was murdered. All for nothing. He was killed, and still Voldemort did not possess the powers of the Elder Wand. It rested unknowingly in the powers of Draco Malfoy because of a simple disarment spell.

Snape didn't deserve to die.

Hermione turned out the lights in the room and crawled under the covers of her bed. The guilt wracked at her for doubting Snape's true loyalties. If Dumbledore trusted him, why was it so hard for the rest of them to accept there was justifiable reasons for his actions? It was true that Snape played the spy role well.

For the first few years of her Hogwarts career, Hermione did all that she could for the man to acknowledge her achievements in academics. She wanted, _desired,_ his attention, because she knew her skills were exceptional. If a man of his intelligence and expertise rewarded her and gave her the praise she wanted, she felt she had proved herself in the wizarding world, despite her muggle heritage.

Yet, the only attention she received from the sullen man was derogatory. He embarrassed her numerous times. Once in the third year, calling her a 'know-it-all" and then in the fourth year after her teeth were cursed. She did not understand why, of all the acidic comments he spat at her, that the one about her appearance hurt her most.

She managed to forgive him at the knowledge of his role of spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Somehow, that explained to her why he was the way he was. Brooding, private, and sullen. He had an image to uphold. He had the most powerful Dark Lord to fool.

This revelation managed to turn her desire to impress him into something akin to respect.

And sometime following that in the next couple months before Dumbledore died, while she was fighting with Ron and making up with him, she knew that respect turned into admiration. But the admiration turned into heartbreak when Dumbledore fell off the tower because of Snape's spell.

What confused Hermione the most was that you could not suffer from a broken heart unless love played a crucial role in that relationship.

Loving someone was different from being "in love" with someone, she understood that. But when did things change for her? And how did her conflicting emotions for Snape not affect her relationship with Ron?

_Because Ron was snogging Lavender for half a term, you silly girl,_ she thought angrily, noting that the tone used was not unlike the acerbic tone Snape used on his students.

She screamed in frustration and got out of bed. It was no use. Snape would be plaguing her thoughts unless she took a potion. Rummaging through her trunk, she pulled out a vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion and took it in one swallow. Finally, a night of sleep without nightmares of Snape.

That was the first night of Snape-less dreams she had since he died.

* * *

The next day in the evening, once Harry, Ron, and Hermione finished their dinner, they made their way back up to the Headmistress's office, where the new Minister of Magic and his assistance waited with McGonagall. The three of them couldn't help being apprehensive and excited at the same time. No one knew for sure what it entailed; only that it involved the war.

The Trio opened the office door and they were greeted by Kingsley with a strong handshake. His assistances greeted them the same way, and they were motioned to sit down in front of McGonagall's desk. She was positively beaming.

"I trust the three of you wonder why I called you here," Kingsley began, steepling his fingers to cover the growing smile on his face.

Harry anxiously sat up, while the other two continued to fidget in their seats. "Of course, Minister, sir. I'm assuming it's not a bad thing though. You can barely contain your smile."

Kingsley chuckled heartily. "Harry, you are not one to miss the obvious. I'm here in behalf of the entire Ministry to congratulate you three."

McGonagall handed the three of them official ministry letters and the students opened them. Ron choked as he read his letter. "Order of Merlin: First Class."

Hermione's jaw dropped as she read the same words on her letter. "All three of us?" she asked in disbelief.

Kingsley nodded. "Your services in the war were noble and honorable. You showed extensive knowledge and bravery in the search of Voldemort's Horcruxes, and we all acknowledge that the end would not have turned out the way it did without your efforts."

Harry was speechless. He continued to stare at the letter in surprise. "Kingsley, this is absolutely the greatest honor I could ever imagine," he finally looked up and Hermione noticed a few tears brimming in his green eyes. "Thank you. I'm without words."

McGonagall was freely crying at this moment. Kingsley was getting emotional as well. "No, Harry. Thank you for all that you did for the entire world."

The room was filled with silence, letting the young adults absorb the greatness of the awards they'd be receiving. McGonagall blew her nose on her handkerchief, gaining her composure back.

"The official ceremony will be conducted here this weekend. I've already written your families and they are most excited at the news. Even your parents will attend, Miss Granger."

Hermione beamed at the news of her parents. "Wonderful! What about the Dursleys?" She teased, and earned a playful punch in the arm from Harry.

Kingsley pulled a few folders out of his bag. "A few more things need to be discussed before the ceremony. Usually, the ministry grants a request for First Class recipients. Do any of you have an idea about what you'd like?"

The three of them grew silent and thought about their options. Harry was the first to speak. "Honestly, Minister, I can't think of anything now that the war is over. That's been the only thing I've wanted since my fourth year. But now that you mention it, I feel I could be serving the public more if I was in Auror training."

"You'd like a release on your education?" Kingsley asked.

"Well, more of the option of taking our N.E.W.T.S right now and getting our diploma immediately, or at least with the students without having to go to classes. I feel that with everything that happened last year, I've proved to the world that I have what it takes to survive. I think that after fighting Voldemort, sitting in classes is not really productive for me."

Kingsley laughed heartily at Harry's clarification. "Of course. I'm sure we can arrange that. Mr. Weasley, what about yourself?"

"Now that Harry mentions it, that sounds exactly what I need too. George and I would like to expand the store as soon as possible. It would easier to do that outside the classroom."

Kingsley nodded his head and wrote a few notes in his files. "Alright, so two diplomas and exemptions from classrooms. Hermione, is this your request too?"

Hermione was silent, and she wrung her hands nervously. She knew Ron would not be happy at her decision. But she promised McGonagall she'd stay. Other than that, she didn't know what she would request.

"As wonderful as that sounds, sir, I promised the Headmistress I'd help her restore the school back in order." McGonagall smiled at her promise of staying in school. "I could probably pass the exams with full marks, so staying won't really stress me out too much." Hermione didn't want to make eye contact with her boyfriend, who was hoping she would follow him out of Hogwarts.

"Very true, Miss Granger. You are the most brilliant witch your age, for sure. Perhaps a promotion through the school would warrant a decent request? A staffing position?" Kingsley suggested.

Hermione stiffened. "If you mean taking the Potions vacancy, I decline immediately."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Or the Transfiguration and the Defense position. No contracts have been signed with any of the faculty so far."

She relaxed. "Of course, sir. Sorry for my rash reaction." She looked around the office, trying to think of a suitable request. She could get anything she possibly wanted. She couldn't miss this opportunity.

She thought of apprenticeships and research opportunities. She recently read into more about the Department of Mysteries and assistantships they offered for possible Unspeakables. Although she had no desire to become one, the temptation of creating things that was secretive called out to her.

But her gaze fell on the empty portrait of Severus Snape, and her thoughts faltered.

"Exoneration," she stated simply.

Kingsley did not follow her train of thought. "Excuse me?" he asked, perplexed.

She straightened up and met his gaze. "I request a full pardon of all crimes committed by Severus Snape."

To say that everyone in the room was shocked would be an understatement. Kingsley slouched back in the chair. "You want me to give a pardon to a man who murdered Albus Dumbledore in front of witnesses, and who knowingly participated in the Dark Arts? Served the Dark Lord?"

"You know his duties with Dumbledore were a lot more complicated than just playing spy, Kingsley. He assisted the Order in so many ways. And Dumbledore asked him to kill him. He had no choice in the matter."

Kingsley pursed his lips. "So I'll lessen his charges to conspiracy and assisted suicide. But I cannot _clear_ him of _all charges."_

Hermione sat back and folded her arms. "Then I must politely decline the award, sir."

The room was uncomfortably silent. Harry was staring at Hermione with surprise and wonder. He finally cleared his throat. "I agree with Hermione, Minister. Severus Snape should be exonerated."

Kingsley stared at the two of them in shock. Ron as well. "Harry, I surely hope you know something more than I do about the Snape situation." He sighed, and scribbled something hastily in Hermione's file. "Very well. Full exoneration for Severus Snape." He snapped the folder shut. "This will not go well for the Wizengamot. Much less the rest of the wizarding community."

Hermione was disgusted by the Minister's display of hatred toward Snape. Even if his loyalties were turned back to the Dark Side, the fact that Snape gave the order essential information while Dumbledore was alive should be reason enough to free him.

"I want one more thing," she said before he had the chance to leave.

Kingsley tried not to glare at her. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I want a chance to visit and discuss research opportunities with the Department of Mysteries," she stated firmly.

Kingsley relaxed. "Honestly, with the Department of Mysteries being so secretive, I believe that will be easier to achieve than your exoneration request." His tone, although polite, bit sharply at Hermione.

She thanked both the Headmistress and Minister and left before the boys could catch her abrupt leave. Obviously, granting a hero a pardon was too much for the Ministry to accept. When Kingsley first announced that she would be a recipient for the Order of Merlin: First Class, she was flattered and honored that her efforts to help Harry destroy Voldemort and save the wizarding world from darkness was being recognized in the upmost way.

But now, she was disgusted. _Perhaps nothing changes after a war. People still hold prejudice and hatred toward each other. I may be awarded this honor, but in the end I'm still a Mudblood. And Snape may be cleared of all charges now, but the rest of the wizarding world will see him as a criminal. Not a hero._

Hermione stormed her way out of the Headmistress's office. Ron shortly followed her, mainly in shock and astonishment. "Hermione!" he called out, willing her to stop.

Much to her disappointment, she obeyed and turned around to face the red head, anger flaring in her brown eyes. "Thanks for your assistance, Ronald," she spat sarcastically.

Ron looked put off. "You could warn a guy before asking to pardon the man Harry saw murder Dumbledore, not to mention made his life, _our _lives, a living hell here."

"Don't be so melodramatic! Snape helped us, remember? He sent us the sword. You know? That _thing _that _you _used to destroy the locket!"

She didn't want to listen to his pointless defense and she turned to continue her way back to her rooms, but he stopped her. "Hermione, listen. I'm sorry. You're right. Snape did sacrifice a lot for us. And surely, one day the world will know the true story of his role. But for now, the past is still so real to the lot of us…"

Hermione relaxed and slowly faced her beau, seeing the tears glisten in his eyes. "Ronald, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't take my frustration out on you."

He chuckled, wiping at his eyes. "Oh that doesn't bother me. After seven years, I think I'm used to it." He pulled her into his arms. "I wouldn't have you any other way, 'Mione."

She buried her face into his robes and inhaled. Such a sweet smell, like of peppermint and parchment. She always loved his smell. "I love you, Ron," she whispered.

He tipped her head to face his and he smiled. "And I love you." He leaned in to kiss her lips.

They continued to hold each other in the corridor, until the next thought interrupted his thoughts. "You want to be an Unspeakable?" He inquired.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and pulled out of his embrace, feeling chilled instantly. "It's always an option. I've been really interested with Time Turners since the third year. Especially since we managed to change the course of history, you know? I never thought that was possible."

They began walking down the corridor hand in hand. "Valid point, Hermione. But the last thing I want from my girlfriend is to not be allowed to talk to me about her life. I don't think you'd like that too much either. You always have some kind of theory about everything. Who would you be able to talk to?"

They reached her dormitory. "Like I said, it's just an option. And just because I assist with the department doesn't mean I'd become an Unspeakable."

Ron kissed her forehead. "Good. Because I personally feel that the name speaks for itself. Which means it doesn't speak. And besides," he tipped her head to face his again, "Your mind would go to waste dealing with prophecies and dead people."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully as Ron brushed a lock of her hair out of her face. "I honestly don't think I would be able to keep my mouth shut, anyways."

Ron glanced mischievously at her. "Well, we might just have to find a way to shut you up, if being an Unspeakable is your dream. And I have one way in mind." She giggled as his mouth descended back on hers.

* * *

_That was…interesting, _McGonagall mused as soon as she bade goodnight to the Minister of Magic.

Hermione's request was one that was unexpected. Judging by the reactions of the men in the room, it was to them as well. McGonagall believed she was the only person who really understood why Hermione could request the exoneration of Snape.

And she herself didn't understand the young girl's actual reasoning and motivation for it.

She sat down behind her desk and furrowed her brow, trying to grasp the full encounter, until another voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Is she bloody _mad?_"

Minerva was taken aback at Snape, who was standing in front of his chair, as livid as ever. His anger was evident.

"What does she think she's accomplishing here? I _don't want_ to be cleared. I only desire to be left at peace. And the world doesn't want to see me get off from all that I did in the past."

McGonagall approached the painting. "Now Severus, relax. You know you were a huge asset, a hero per say, to all of us. You don't deserve to have your memory tainted with things that were out of your control."

"Out of my control? OUT OF MY BLOODY CONTROL? I killed and plotted destruction. I _murdered _the headmaster. I could have told him no. I could have let Draco complete the task. Urged him onward. Trained him myself. But _no! _The boy had to be noble. And I had to do his work!" He began pacing. "Now, I hear that this girl, this _insufferable _Gryffindor, wants me to be exonerated for all my sins, because she sees me as some sort of _tragic hero?_ I WILL HAVE NONE OF THAT!"

"What's done is done, Severus," the Headmistress interjected, "You know that just as well. So you might as well accept it!" She saw him huff in response and sit down forcefully in his chair. "Perhaps you made poor life choices. But that doesn't make you any less of a good person."

The portrait-Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. "Leave me be, Minerva."

She simply shook her head and did as he requested, but not without a glance at Dumbledore. The old man was woken up at Snape's outburst.

"Do not worry, Minerva," the old man whispered. "Even in death, he cannot forgive himself. But one day he will find peace."

Minerva looked up at the portrait, tears glistening her eyes. "I do hope you know what you are saying, Albus. To live life with such animosity is one thing. To suffer eternity with hatred is a completely different story."

He nodded in agreement, and looked sympathetically towards the now sleeping Severus Snape. "I assure you, Minerva. He'll turn out alright."

Snape's words rang in McGonagall's ears for the rest of the evening. As she lied down in her quarters, she couldn't help but whisper, "I do hope you are right this time, Albus."


	3. Ceremonies, Betrayals, and Betrothals

**CHAPTER 3: CEREMONIES, BETRAYALS, AND BETROTHALS**

The first weekend back at Hogwarts was different because of the lavish ceremony and party that was being set up in the Great Hall for the new recipients of the Order of Merlin: First Class.

The whole castle was in a buzz about the news. It wasn't a usual occurrence to throw a party for the entire school attendance and other esteemed guests of honor. Naturally, the Weasleys began taking part in the planning. Arthur Weasley eventually had to drag out Molly from the kitchens when she began to argue with the house elves on what flavor of pudding they should serve with the courses.

Hermione shook her head at everyone's excitement. She wasn't to disclude herself, of course. A woman always enjoyed to get dressed up in beautiful robes. She made a special trip out to Hogsmeade with Ginny to pick out a set of royal blue dress robes. It was more feminine in the way it gathered around her waist and was fuller at the skirt. Hermione believed her favorite part of the outfit were the sleeves, which seemed to flow at her every movement. The back of the robes flowed in a similar fashion. Graceful and elegant.

It took a good three hours for Ginny to help Hermione tame her curly locks. Naturally, a whole bottle of Sleekeazy was used. But finally, the girls managed to have her hair pulled back into a simple knot, with a few tendrils of hair framing her face.

The ladies made their way down the steps to the common room, where their respected escorts awaited their arrival. Hermione could not help but note the adoration Harry gave to Ginny as soon as her feet reached the last step. The exchange was all too beautiful.

Ron cleared his throat to get Hermione's attention. She then realized he was holding a small parcel and a bouquet of white and red roses, glistening in gold sparkles. She was taken aback by this grand gesture, and was rendered speechless.

Ron chuckled. "Why is it that I always leave you at a loss for words?" he teased.

Hermione shook her head. "Maybe it's because you've never treated me so well before." She took the flowers from him and gently inhaled the fragrance from one of the blooms. "That, or the fact that I'm not the only guest of honor tonight. You are receiving the same award as me."

He nodded in agreement. "Yes, but it's more than just an awards ceremony. I figured we could make this a night to remember beyond that." He handed her the small box.

Hermione set the roses down on a nearby stool and curiously looked at her beau while unwrapping the gift. Inside the box was a simple pearl bracelet, lined with small diamonds and rubies in between each pearl.

"Oh, Ronald," she exclaimed. "It's absolutely beautiful. How did you manage to find such jewelry?"

He assisted in putting it on her wrist. "One of the heirlooms from mum. Even though we didn't live with too much luxury, she never was one to let go of original Weasley items. Each one of us has at least one from her side or dad's side."

She glanced lovingly at the beautiful bracelet. "I hope she intended you on finding a woman, or this would have been fairly useless for you, don't you think?"

Ron laughed gently. "Never thought of it that way." He placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand before taking her arm in his. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Hermione responded. She kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, love."

Inside the Great Hall, the long tables were adorned with lavish centerpieces filled with crystals and water that seemed to glow many different colors. A few goldfish swam through the water, occasionally transfiguring themselves into flower petals, precious stones, and other types of exotic fish. Elaborate plates, glassware and silverware waited to be filled by the extensive choice of menu sitting in front of each place setting.

The lights were dimmed down, and gentle music played from the high ceiling above. Tonight, it was enchanted to be a clear night, not unlike the one outside, with a few stray shooting stars falling across the sky. To Hermione, it was one of the most breathtaking sights she'd ever witnessed.

The Head Table was reserved for the guests of honor, their family, and a few of the more important Hogwarts and Ministry officials. Ron escorted Hermione to the table and pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit down next to her mother. Molly Weasley was only a few seats down from her, and she beamed brightly at the young couple.

The rest of the crowd began filing into the Great Hall. Ron bent down to whisper in his girlfriend's ear about needing to speak to her father real quickly and he excused himself from the gathering. Hermione's mother was just admiring her new bracelet when Molly noticed the same.

"Oh, finally he buggered up and gave you my bracelet!" She exclaimed happily. "You know, he had that heirloom in his possession for almost two years? I was wondering when my son would finally come around."

"Well, granting the circumstances of the past few years, his timing seems perfect," Hermione beamed, her loving glance meeting the one of her boyfriend who was making his way back to the head table with her father.

As soon as they sat in their places, McGonagall approached the lectern set up in front of the table. "Good evening, ladies and gentleman, and welcome to Hogwarts." A loud applause from the congregation erupted. "As we all know, tonight we gather to honor three of our dedicated wizards and witches, who sacrificed their wellbeing and showed courage beyond all imaginable extent. These three Gryffindors," another long bout of applause from the far table, "These three Gryffindors are the examples all youth in every town, muggle or magical, should exemplify in their daily lives. I've watched these young men and woman grow up, and I can honestly say that these three students of mine, soon to be colleagues, hold a special place in my heart. They truly have made me proud, and I have grown to love them like my own children."

Hermione felt her bottom lip tremble at the Headmistress's emotional introduction. The older woman was choking on her own words. Nothing set Hermione's emotional rollercoaster more than seeing another person tear up. Everyone in the room erupted in grand applause, because they all felt the same respect for the three of them in one way or another.

McGonagall gained back her composure. "Now, before awarding our guests of honor, first let's tuck in and enjoy the menu!"

Hermione picked up the menu and assisted her parents, showing them how to call up the food. They both were mesmerized with how the food appeared in thin air, all the while commenting on the beautiful decoration. Hermione did admit she was more transfixed than ever, and she couldn't stop smiling.

If time could stand still, she'd freeze it at that particular moment. Great food, even better elf made wine. She had her loving parents with her at her favorite place in the world, Hogwarts. She had her beau Ronald Weasley sitting next to her, gently holding her hand, her friends sitting near her, celebrating this wonderful occasion.

The only thing missing, her heart realized, was…

Her thoughts were distracted by a gentle tinkling of glass by the Headmistress. "I hope you all enjoyed your meal. I believe it is time to begin the official reward ceremony. For this great honor, I would like to introduce our new Minister of Magic, Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt."

Kingsley approached the podium and shook the Headmistress's hand as the crowd continued their gracious applaud. He nodded appreciatively to them all as he adjusted the papers and plaques in front of him before beginning his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Witches, wizards, and muggles alike. It is my great honor to bestow upon our three recipients, the Order of Merlin: First Class, for their efforts in the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. As Professor McGonagall stated, all three of them showed courage in the face of dark times, great intelligence in the face of uncertainty, and loyalty in the face of peril."

"Our first recipient was born into privilege. The Dark Lord, fearing defeat, marked him as his equal. And as a prophecy spoke over 18 years ago, neither could live while the other survived. Mr. Harry James Potter searched diligently with Albus Dumbledore, discovering the secret of the Horcruxes, and courageously offered himself up as a sacrifice in order to destroy the Dark Lord completely. Along with the award, Harry has requested a release of education and his diploma, in order to further his career in eliminating Dark forces by entering the Auror Training Program. It is my great honor and privilege to present Mr. Harry James Potter, son of the late James and Lily Potter, the Order of Merlin: First Class."

The sound of the crowd was deafening to the ears, and yet it was appropriate. Harry was freely crying as he approached Kingsley, shaking his hand proudly and pinning on the badge to his robe. He observed the plaque as he began the speech.

"I'm surprised that someone could present such an award to a person who really had no choice in the matter of his actions." The audience chuckled at his light joke. "But honestly, I could not have done any of the work alone. My mother and father both loved me to the point of death. Their love, especially my mother's, prevented Voldemort from harming me in any way. And in their own unique way, even though they are not here tonight, the Dursleys helped protect me by our common blood ties."

Harry gripped the edge of the podium. "In my short time here in the wizarding world, I have lost far too many friends and loved ones, all who wanted to free us from the Dark forces that pervade through our world everyday. Auror Alastor Moody. Fred Weasley, noted businessman who never failed to put a smile on my face. My godfather, Sirius Black. His best friend, Remus Lupin. Remus's wife, Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, and mother of my beautiful godson, Teddy. He will never know the bravery possessed by this couple. Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard who ever lived, helped me in every step of the way in my journey. And lastly, to a man who I despised until I knew the whole truth of his existence, Professor Severus Snape."

"Despite the certainty or uncertainty of their loyalties," Harry raised his voice, "Our fallen servants helped me in every step of the way. This award in my eyes is going to each and every one of them equally. I will never forget them and the bravery they showed when they gave up their lives for the Light." Harry choked up again. "Thank you."

It was a somber, yet beautiful moment as the guests applauded for the Boy-Who-Lived-Again. The gracious reception of the crowd for Harry did not die down for over four minutes. Harry had to stand up from his seat twice in acknowledgement from the crowd. Hermione and Ron both stood up to hug their best friend, all three of them equally weeping in happiness.

The crowd settled as the Minister reapproached the podium. "Our next recipient is no stranger to Mr. Potter. Speaking to him about his time at Hogwarts, Harry and Ronald were virtually inseparable. From the daring Chess Game in his first year, to assistance in the Chamber of Secrets and the Department of Mysteries, Ronald Weasley was familiar with the dangers the War faced him with, and he relentlessly fought alongside his best friends. Sixth son of the Ministry's own Arthur Weasley and wife, Molly, he is the devoted brother to Bill, Charles, Percy, George, Ginerva, and the late Fred Weasley. In return for his valiant fight, Mr. Weasley is also exempt from his educational duties, and plans on expanding the Weasley Wizard Wheezes alongside his brother George, in memory of Fred. I am proud to present the Order of Merlin: First Class, to Mr. Ronald Billius Weasley.

Ronald took his place at the podium, shaking the Minister's hand and receiving the pin, plaque, and Hogwarts diploma. "Wow. This award is something that I never believed I could ever achieve." He turned his head to look at his family, his mother smiling proudly with tears streaming down her face.

"I always was lucky," he began. "Naturally, I was too thick headed to realize it until it was almost too late. I had a family who loved me, and all I could worry about was being overshadowed by my brothers and sisters, and not having money. I crashed cars into Whomping Willows. Broke curfews, risked my neck for dumb reasons. Had a short temper and abandoned my friends in numerous occasions. And yet, I still stand here today, defying all odds, finding my way back to a family that still supports me, a best friend a man could ever have, and a woman who loves me."

"This award is going to my brother Fred, who sacrificed his life for the betterment of the wizarding world. He is my hero, and there won't be a day that goes by that I won't think of him. And not only because his identical twin brother is my business partner. But because his spirit lives on in me, and I know he's watching out for the both of us. Just so we don't screw up. And if we do, he'll surely let us know in his own unique way." His eyes rose to the enchanted ceiling, his bottom lip trembling. "We miss you, Fred. Thanks for the laughs."

Ron returned to his seat while the Weasley family stood up in ovation to his beautiful dedication of the fallen Weasley. Hermione stood too and was soon enveloped in his embrace. This ceremony was the event that would help both George and Ron let go of the past and move on with their lives in the best way possible.

The Weasley family made it back to their seats as Kingsley made it to the podium for a third time.

"Our last recipient is Miss Hermione Jean Granger, where, in a world ridiculed of hypocrisy, prejudice, and hatred, she shined above all the rest. The most brilliant witch her age, she often showed keen logic and intellect in situations where wizards and witches would have been at a loss. The final trials of the Sorcerer's Stone, discovering the horrors of the monster in the Chamber of Secrets, and her emphasis on not having magic as her number one source of power were just some of the few ways she kept her keen intellect at the forefront of the situation. A talented witch like Hermione always believed that the mind, that knowledge, was the most powerful weapon of all, next to love."

Hermione's heart swelled at the eloquent words the Minister spoke about her, and she smiled, taking Ron's hand in hers and squeezing gently. It was unbelievable to her.

"For her valiant efforts, the Ministry would like grant Hermione an assistantship with the Department of Mysteries. While she finishes her education here at Hogwarts, helping the Headmistress restore the school to its usual prestige, Miss Granger will have the opportunity to visit with the Ministry and work one on one with the Unspeakables, helping them with research on their confidential projects. I would like to bestow upon Miss Hermione Jean Granger, the Order of Merlin: First Class."

The crowd erupted again in enthusiastic applause, but Hermione sat frozen in her seat. Her face fell when nothing was mentioned about Snape's pardon. The Minister of Magic failed to grant her request. She felt like she was punched in the stomach. Mocked. Ridiculed. But most of all, betrayed.

Ron had to shake Hermione gently to get her to approach the podium. She did so reluctantly. Her legs felt like lead. Her throat was constricted as she weakly shook the Minister's hand. Perhaps Kingsley was making the exoneration call a private one, instead of alarming the crowd with a public announcement. But when the Minister, ironically, did not make eye contact with her, she knew that did not happen. The Minister was going against his word.

In her emotional state, Hermione didn't know whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or scream in anger. She resorted to gripping the edge of the podium with both her hands, willing her breathing to return to normal. She didn't realize she closed her eyes until she raised her head to face the audience.

"It seems unfair that I'm receiving this award, when there are others out there who aren't standing with me, even though they were a direct affect to my efforts in the war. They have influenced me, fueled my thirst for knowledge, whether intentionally or not. Growing up in a loving, caring, albeit muggle home, my parents insured me that even though I was blessed with the gift of magic, it shouldn't be the answer to all my problems. It was important that I rationally thought through any dilemma that came across my path. It wasn't until later on in my career at Hogwarts, that I realized the ability of common sense and logic came harder for families of magical blood. And I believe this is one of the sole reasons why I was so successful."

She paused, still gripping the podium. "Nevertheless, there will be hundreds of wizards and witches out there who will not change their opinion of me. To them, my assistance in taking down the Dark Lord is the equivalent of de-gnoming a garden. Only because to them I'm still a filthy muggle born witch. Voldemort may have fallen, and some may regard me as a hero, but I know I will continue to struggle in this world for acceptance. This award, a great honor, will convince some. But to others…"

"Muggleborns aren't the only heroes who suffer persecution. Many men and women, who put their sweat and blood into defeating the Dark, are ignored. Simply because of their habits, beliefs, and past actions that tainted their image. We may have defeated the Dark Lord, but still, his agenda lives on. In our hatred, bigotry, hypocrisy, prejudice, and the stereotypes placed on one another. Now, more than ever, it is important to set our differences aside, forgive our past actions, and join together in the fight to bring unity to our world once more, and see each other more than just race and blood type."

She glanced down at her plaque. "This award is going to all the people who will never be recognized for their efforts, to those that will never be forgiven for their past, and to those who will constantly be fighting this war. We thank you all for this honor."

The crowd was silent for a moment before applauding. One could notice it was not as enthusiastic as others. To place such negativity in a prestigious honor was unheard of. Yet, never discount Hermione to emphasize a fact that most wizards and witches neglected to acknowledge.

As she reached her seat, Ron looked at her with concern, and her parents placed a comforting arm on her shoulders. She brushed all of their concern, taking interest more in the elf made wine in her goblet.

Kingsley addressed the crowd, saying they were free to participate in the celebration that followed, and to congratulate the three students. Hermione wished she could disappear, but she found herself shaking hands with half the attendants of the ceremony. She felt guilty for constantly looking over her shoulder for the Minister, making sure he didn't weasel his way out from speaking to her.

She had a piece of her mind to give him.

Finally, when the crowds broke and the majority of them were dancing on the floor where the tables were vanished, Hermione finally caught the Minister.

"Miss Granger," he nervously acknowledged.

Hermione didn't realize how angry she was until she stood face to face with the Minster. She folded her arms tersely. "You went against your word. You _promised_ me full exoneration."

Kingsley sighed in defeat. "Hermione, understand that my word is not final…"

"Not final!" she interrupted, "You are the bloody Minister of Magic! You hold the highest office in the government! How can you just stand there and try to make me believe you had no control in this situation?"

"Listen!" He admonished, losing his patience. "I brought the request to the Wizengamot. We were deadlocked all week. We didn't even get the final vote until this afternoon, and the final say was that we could not clear him. The evidence presented was too strong against him. I'm sorry, Hermione, but that's all I can do."

Hermione clenched her jaw. "So, the evidence Snape presented to the Order, whenever we were at a loss of what to do, all the efforts he presented to protect Harry, Ron, and myself, the fact he was on _our _side the entire time, doesn't warrant him the chance to have his legacy spared?"

"If he was so innocent, Miss Granger, somewhere along the way Dumbledore would have documented his plans for Severus, explaining his innocence. And Severus, if he wasn't a spy for Voldemort, would have acknowledged that in his will as well."

"If Dumbledore clearly stated his intentions, Snape would have been put in danger! His cover would have been blown and he would have died sooner! Don't you understand that, you half wit?"

Kingsley stiffened. "Do not insult me, Miss Granger. It could just as easily been possible that Severus truly deserted us in the time of need and returned to Voldemort. Nothing was stopping him. And you have no proof of that otherwise. Now, we shall drop the subject from here on out, unless you have some kind of concrete proof of innocence."

"Even if I had it, you wouldn't believe it to be true," she spat.

Kingsley managed to hold back his sneer and instead turned to leave at once. Hermione froze in her spot, afraid that if she moved, she would destroy something…or someone.

She wasn't in a mood for a party. She wanted to be left alone. As quickly as she could, she made her way out into an empty courtyard.

Ron found her sitting on a stone bench a half hour later, tears still falling from her eyes. He was worried about her since she disappeared after the ceremony. This was not the way he had things planned for the evening.

"How are you holding up?" he asked awkwardly. Hermione turned to face him, a look of disgusted astonishment on her face for the ignorant question. He put his hands in his pockets. "Right. Well, that was dumb of me to ask."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, not able to hold back her chuckle as he sat down next to her.

He put his arm around her for comfort. "I'm really sorry, Hermione. The one thing you ask, Kingsley has to deny."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe Kingsley was right. It was his word against the entire Wizengamot."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Look, love. Give it a few months. Eventually the real truth about Snape will come out, and he will get his pardon then."

"He shouldn't have to wait, Ron. The man did more for the cause than any of us. It's the least we can do to thank him. Not to _mock _him by denying him forgiveness."

Ron grew silent and only managed to rub Hermione's arm in a soothing manner. "Come back to the party. Things will turn out alright. You'll see."

"I don't want to go to a party, Ronald,"she spat.

Plan B for Ron. "Alright, Hermione," he sighed. "I know this doesn't seem like the appropriate time. And you're sad right now. Well, actually, more murderous," she rolled her eyes, but teasingly. Decent start. "But, I've wanted to do this for a while now." He knelt down in front of her, gathering both of her hands in his.

"You are the only reason why I'm alive today. Why I never dropped dead during the War. You saved my ignorant arse so many times. You know that, don't you?" She nodded and he smiled. "And you know that just because the War is over, doesn't mean I have another reason, beyond you, to live. I love you, Hermione Granger. I never want to be apart from you." He reached up and brushed the few hairs framing her face behind her ear. "Make me the luckiest man in the world. Will you marry me?"

She gasped as his proposal. Here she was, bawling her eyes out over the injustice of society, over a man that was dead. And Ron still wanted to marry her. Puffy red eyes and all. Hermione looked at the man on his knees with love in her eyes. He pulled out the small box in his pocket and opened it, waiting for her answer.

Her face lit up when she saw his trepidation. "Ronald Weasley, How could I say no to you? Yes. Yes I will marry you."

He exhaled and quickly scooped her up in his arms, kissing her in the process. They both giggled with glee as he pulled the ring out of the confines of the velvet box and slid it onto her left hand. She admired the diamond solitaire framed by two identical rubies, not unlike the bracelet he gifted her earlier in the evening.

"That ring was my choice, by the way," Ron stated proudly. "Every single knut in that is mine from this summer."

She smiled up at him and kissed him gently on the cheek. "You did a fine job, Mr. Weasley. I love it."

He offered his arm to his new fiancée. "C'mon. I want to show off the fact my fiancée has been awarded the Order of Merlin: First Class."

She shoved him playfully before taking his arm. "As if! You aren't the only one engaged to a person who has that award." They laughed jovially as they entered the castle once more, tiraded with congratulations for both the Order of Merlin and the engagement.

And as the night ended, she managed to all but forget her formidable Potions Master.

* * *

_A/N: Hey, so I'm updating a TON this week because I'm on a mini Thanksgiving break, and updating this story is a lot more fun than presentations on Starbucks products and contaminated baby formula. When classes start up again, there might be a few weeks hiatus as I prepare for final exams. But not to worry. This story is dear to my heart and it won't be abandoned. :-) Thanks for checking this out. Let me know what you think!_


	4. The Constant

**CHAPTER 4: THE CONSTANT**

Lots of paperwork needed to be done if Hermione wanted to begin her assistantship with the Department of Mysteries. McGonagall arranged weekend floo trips to the Ministry itself so she could get a head start on the research. Within two weeks, everything was taken care of and she was anxious to start.

Hermione was gracious for the distraction of work. Already, she had Mrs. Weasley bombarding her with questions about the wedding planning. Hermione never really thought much into details, but as she weighed her options, it was overwhelming. Her parents wanted her to have a traditional style wedding. Molly wanted the embellishments of a wizarding affair.

Hermione at the present moment only wanted to elope.

She knew everyone meant well, but the current plan of a late August wedding seemed too hard to achieve. Especially since she was already getting cold feet. Eleven months away, and she already knew she wasn't ready for marriage.

Hermione sighed and she placed the papers she was filling out back into her files and into her satchel. She felt the beginnings of a migraine creeping into her head. She knew it was possible to postpone the wedding without calling off the engagement. Ron would understand, but his family would not. Neither would her friends.

She always imagined that when she would walk down the aisle, the man at the end would be the only man she'd ever think of. True, the likeliness that she would never be attracted to another man other than Ron was slim. But being attracted to someone is not as bad as being obsessed with another man.

Hermione preferred the term 'obsessed,' versus other choice words that dealt with the description of her emotions towards the late Potions Master.

She hated herself for not having enough strength to tell Ron the truth about her feelings for Snape. She had hoped that if the full pardon went through, it would serve as closure between the two of them, or at least for her. She knew for a fact that Snape never saw her more than just an insufferable know-it-all.

But now, in her Gryffindor stubborn splendor, her emotions were still focused on this misunderstood man, and no one wanted to help her exonerate him. She would not give up without a fight. Snape worked too hard, suffered too much, and didn't do all that for nothing. She had to prove it alone.

All she needed now was a plan.

Hermione checked her watch and cursed. She was almost late to her appointment with the Head of the Department of Mysteries, Lukas McPherson. Rushing to the grate of her fireplace in her quarters, she threw in the powder and stepped into the green flames.

Luckily for her, Hermione had her fireplace connected directly with Mr. McPherson's office, so the long drawn out Ministry visitor process could be avoided. She dusted off her robes, thanking fate that the room was still empty. Hermione took a seat across from where Lukas would be addressing her and got ready for the appointment.

Not five minutes later, a short, stout, balding man rushed into the room, looking quite nervous. Within the past few weekends of meeting him, this behavior was a normal activity of his. The job's pressures were slowly getting the best of him. Hermione was sadden at this fact, for he was a very nice man overall.

McPherson looked surprised when he saw Hermione in his office. "Miss Granger! I didn't realize you were coming in today."

Knowing his recent bout of absentmindedness, she didn't take offense. "Sir, it's Saturday."

He sat down at his desk. "So it is. Goodness! Time does sure to fly by when everything else crumbles into a disaster!" He joked, semiseriously.

"Oh dear. Anything that I can assist with?"

Lukas put on a pair of eye glasses and rummaged through the mess of paperwork on his desk. "Not right now, Miss Granger. Unless you can catch the fine tuned miscalculations the Time-turning team managed to miss during their research. Five years! Five bloody years of research for this project, and they still can't explain…"

If there was one thing Hermione was disappointed within her assistantship, it was their vague explanations of events in the department. "Sir, you need to give me more details than that if I am to assist you. That's what I signed up for, and I believe I can be a huge asset if you actually told me exactly what is going on here."

Lukas shook his head. "Of course, Miss Granger. Old habits die hard," he chuckled. "I cannot reveal to you _all _the activities our department is working on, but perhaps an emphasis on one project will suffice."

Hermione straightened up in her chair, feeling excitement rush at her. Finally, making some progress. "If I may suggest, Mr. McPherson, this Time-Turner project has sparked my interest best. I've had experience with them a few years ago, and I find them fascinating."

McPherson leaned back in his chair, contemplating the risks of allowing Hermione work on such a secretive and sensitive project. He obviously could not find a good enough reason to keep her off the assignment, because he stood up and motioned for her to follow him.

They reached the all too familiar circular room of the Department of Mysteries. Hermione brushed off the shiver that ran down her spine as she recollected the events that happened there at the end of her fifth year. The trip wasn't as eventful as last time, for Lukas knew which room the time turners were located.

Lukas kept moving past where the time turners stood on the shelf and into a small room that Hermione never noticed when she was fighting the gang of Death Eaters. Inside, Hermione found four long tables strewn with paperwork and seven cauldrons simmering simultaneously. Three wizards were bending over papers and scratching their quills on parchments, observing the bubbling potions meticulously.

Hermione's interest in the project increased ten fold. Her fingers were itching to reach for one of the parchments sitting on the black counter. Potions for Hermione was one of her favorite subjects, for it involved the more mental and physical effort than magical abilities. Like Kingsley said at the ceremony, Hermione was not one to constantly rely on her magic.

The room obviously did not bring Lukas as much joy for him as it did for the young woman standing next to him. He pulled out a stool and motioned Hermione to sit next to him, gathering some of the parchment on the table into a pile.

"We are developing a new type of time travel, Miss Granger. You are probably familiar with the hour glass method. It has been very efficient in turning back at the most a few hours, but we are trying to stretch our limits and travel back weeks, months, maybe _years! _It's been in research for ages, but for the past five years, we've began brewing. However, we've reached a stand still."

Hermione was concentrating on the list of notes in front of her. "So, you think the enchanted minerals in the hourglass won't have enough power to transport you that far back in time?"

Lukas shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it does, but you need a large proportional amount. Our team here estimates we'll need an hourglass that's the size of a full grown hippogriff to travel back two weeks. The initial problem for us was that the grains did not slip quickly enough to transport the entire body through the time barrier. It would end up like a splinching gone badly, except the parts you left behind would be in different time periods."

"So you needed something that would be quick enough to be able to transport you back decades but in one piece," she summarized.

He nodded. "Yes. So, if turning an hourglass around your neck wouldn't be fast enough, then what could be done in place of that? What is the fastest way of getting a substance completely throughout the body?"

Hermione furrowed her brow and looked around the room. "Well, judging by the numerous amounts of cauldrons in this room, I'd say ingestion. And since it would be complicated to ingest powder and minerals, you have to turn that into a potion."

"Brilliant, Miss Granger. Our conclusion exactly. However, there is a quicker way."

Hermione nodded. "Of course! If you ingest a potion, it will take longer for it to get into your bloodstream because it has to be absorbed by your stomach. So, the quickest way is to inject it directly into the bloodstream."

Lukas pulled out a parchment in the pile of research in front of him that contained the formula. "Exactly. Now, the formula we created was simple. It's a liquid version of the enchanted minerals inside the old hourglass necklace, except it's intensified to allow a further breach into the time barrier. Now comes the tricky part."

Hermione read over the formula and the process it took to create the potency of the elixir. "You aren't sure how much you need to administer in order to go back a certain allotted amount of time." McPherson started to read over her shoulder while Hermione continued. "I'm going to think out loud on this one, but honestly I believe it's a simple chemical equation. A standard time turner transports you back one hour with one turn. How much of this liquid can do the same?"

Lukas started pacing. "I believe we have it reduced so that one milliliter of our formula is equal to twelve rotations."

Hermione started to calculate the math on a spare bit of parchment. So, two milliliters is one day, 14 milliliters for a week, 56 for a month, and that gives us 672 milliliters for an entire year's transport." Hermione shook her head. "But then again, if you are centering on a specific day of the year, you will need 730 milliliters. Sir, either way that is way too much for a person to inject into their bloodstream if we are dealing with transportation beyond 365 days. We need to increase the potency somehow."

Lukas cursed. "That's what we discovered, unfortunately. But we are afraid the potion will explode if tampered with further. The risks are too great."

Hermione furrowed her brow. They were definitely at a standstill for now. "Perhaps something else is needed for a time travel boost. But not to increase potency." She leafed through the papers quickly, trying to catch something she missed. "Mr. McPherson, I'm going to diligently think this over with your team and I'll report anything we come up with. I know you have a lot more things to look over throughout the department"

For the next eight hours, Hermione discussed the Time Turning Elixir with the rest of the team members. But by the end of the day, they still had no idea how to create a more potent substance, and Hermione had to return back to Hogwarts a bit dismayed. These unproductive results continued into the rest of the month.

One good thing (or perhaps bad thing) about being on the project for Hermione was that it kept her mind off of her dead Potions Masters. However, that meant her plan of exonerating him had halted as well. Everything in her life became that way, though. Ron was starting to worry about his fiancée. On a Hogsmeade weekend in early October, he decided to take her out to a private dinner before she fled back to the Ministry.

"…so Mum feels that's why those place settings would work better than the old ones," Ron said before taking another bite of his meal.

Hermione continued to play with the leftover vegetables on her plate. "Mhmm. The old ones will do, don't worry."

Ron slammed down his fork. "Honestly, 'Mione. I just said the old ones _won't_ work as well. Can you, for one moment, focus on something other than that bloody secret project of yours?"

Hermione sighed, feeling guilty. It was true she was only focusing on that new Time Turning Elixir. Even her class grades were falling below standards.

"Ron, I'm sorry." She reached across the table for his hand. "I have been a right arse these past few weeks. I'm just so frustrated with this project. This is the first thing I've ever faced that I couldn't solve. I just want one _tiny _sign of progress before this assistantship is over. That is the only thing I'm focused on right now."

Ron looked down at the small hand holding his. It had the engagement ring he gave her after the ceremony. "Are you sure you want to marry me, Hermione?"

Her face fell, but then she tightened her grip on his hand. "Of course I do, Ronald! It's just…well…wedding plans and details just seem so trivial as compared to everything else we've been through. I don't care about what color ribbons we use during the binding vows, or the year the place settings were made. I just care that we will promise to live our lives for one another until the day we die. Why does anything else have to matter?"

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Out of all the women I could fall in love with, I choose the one who doesn't care about details."

She squeezed his hand again. "Some men would find that a blessing," she teased.

He nodded. "I do, don't get me wrong. My mother, on the other hand, does not. This wedding is going to be the biggest event she's ever thrown, next to Bill and Fleur's nuptials, of course. But that was her first wedding. I know she's going to go mad on this one, and it's only her second."

Hermione snorted. "Well, look on the bright side. You know Ginny's going to get the worst of it when it's her turn. Maybe we should warn her now."

"Agreed! But then again, Ginny's a lot like mum when it comes to details. She would worry about the possibility that the place settings would make her reception look like we went back in time to the 1950s. I personally don't see that as a problem, but apparently the goblins that made the china back then went on strike so it's not good quality."

Hermione rolled her eyes. And then the light bulb went off.

She beamed and her eyes lit up. "Ronald Weasley, YOU ARE A GENIUS!" She jumped up and showered kisses all over his face.

"What did I do?" he stammered, trying to pull her off him before she strangled him in her tight embrace.

She ran back to her chair and grabbed her cloak. "Not to worry, love. But I have to leave and report this to McPherson as soon as possible. Seriously Ron, what would I do without you?" She placed another quick kiss on his cheek. "I'll be back in a few hours!" And she left the pub with a bewildered Ron trying to piece together what just happened.

Hermione was out of breath and her hair even more untamed than ever when she bolted through the doors of the lab in the Department of Mysteries. The team turned to her, having been startled by her sudden entrance.

She managed to gasp out one sentence. "We need a constant!"

One of the researchers looked astounded. "A what?"

Hermione crouched and clutched her knees, motioning to the people in the room that she needed to catch her breath. When she finally calmed down, she was beaming.

"We have been looking for the wrong answer! Listen. A normal time turner works like a dial. You turn it, and slowly it goes back to its original placement. Why does this elixir method have to behave the same way? With a constant factor of the present year and the year you'd like to travel to, all you would have to do is measure our the amount of potion you'd need to stay in that time before being transported back! It's simple!"

They all still were gaping like fish. Hermione shook her head. "Okay, let me explain it to you like this. Let's say I want to travel back to my first year of Hogwarts and relive it for about three months. What I have to do is find something from 1991. Anything made or written and the like. Add that into the potion, along with the present year constant. Then, I measure out enough elixir that can keep me in the year 1991 for three months. Once the time limit is reached, it will send me back to the present day!"

"So, it's like a variation of the Polyjuice Potion, only we add samples of time?"

Hermione beamed. "That's a brilliant way to put it!"

"Only one problem," one man chimed in. "How can you pinpoint it to the day you want to go back? And when will you return back to the present day? Will it be the day you left, or the amount of time that has lapsed since you injected the elixir?"

Hermione still smiled. "No idea. But we better start figuring all that out!"

She was in high spirits as they continued to file in more information and theories about the elixir. Some researchers still were skeptical of the results, finding it would add more risk to the people of the past as well as the user. Testing the new potion on lab rats only proved their fears correct.

Lukas didn't seem to mind the complications, despite the seriousness of what could happen. He called Hermione in a few weeks later, congratulating her on the progress of the project.

"Miss Granger, I can't tell you how grateful I am you have figured all this out with us. This is life changing. And I cannot wait to finally complete this mess. It's been way too long."

Hermione still seemed a bit unsure. "But, sir. I've been arguing with the team about possible complications the elixir can pose to the person and to the past life of everyone he or she contacts. It can threaten present society as we know it if it comes true!

Lukas sat back in his chair. "Do enlighten me on what theories you are coming up with."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, we've got the concentration calculated to a T, so I don't think that will be a problem. However, we've come across a period of time that cannot be accounted for. It is dangerous to "rewrite" history, and it's virtually unavoidable to change _something_ from the past. But after testing this on the lab rats, by the time they come back to present day, something still manages to change even though they didn't live through that period again."

McPherson did not follow what Hermione explained. She sighed and sat down, opening up a folder to explain further.

"We injected Gus the rat with the elixir last week, trying to send it back a week and planned for a visit of five days. The day he left, we kept track of how much of food he ate, and which type. Obviously, he wasn't around for seven days, but he just returned an hour ago. However, the strangest thing happened. Just as soon as he reappeared, all of us got a little confused. When Gus ate last week, he chose the dry grains over berries to eat. But then all of the sudden, we rushed up to him and filled his bowl with berries. This obviously means he changed his mind about his diet within the past week, and it changed immediately in our heads."

Lukas furrowed his brow. "I see. And how are all of you feeling now, physically?"

"Well, we've recovered, but it felt like a pillow was thrown in our face rather forcefully." She rubbed the tension out of her face. "If there can be a reaction like this for something as small as a diet change for rats, I can't imagine what kind of pain can be undergone by everyone if a major event of the past is altered. And it is out of our control."

Studying the papers in front of him, Lukas sighed. "Well, from what you all written, the Time of Uncertainty increases the further back in time you go. So, this rat was transported back seven days and stayed for five days. He had about 48 hours of time that the course of history changed because he didn't live through it again. By these standards, a person who would travel back 20 years and stay for three or four months would be possibly changing 236 months of unaccounted time travel."

Hermione nodded. "Exactly. But if you see, sir, if I were to go back 20 years, the most risk is poised after I am born. If I am to encounter someone or something that met me in the past, even though I technically wasn't born yet, they could change their own future, or influence the decisions I make the closer we get to "present day."

Lukas chuckled and shook his head. "Merlin's beard. Time travel is so complicated. Good thing we aren't planning on using this."

Hermione was taken aback. "Excuse me? So we've been working on this and no one is going to benefit from it?"

"Benefit from it! Hermione, you just explained to me what a high risk it will be to go back into the past. You could change not just your past, but the future of the entire wizarding world! Imagine if one would go back only eight or nine months, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was still alive. Why, it is possible to alter time so much that _Harry Potter_ is the one defeated. We cannot take that risk!"

"But why then bother creating a way to travel back further into time? Isn't it a waste?"

"No, Hermione. It's a last measure precautionary reason. Just like my last example. If Harry was to fail the first time he met the Dark Lord, we could have a designated Ministry official go back in time and tell him what to do so that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be destroyed."

She sighed. "Well, since you put it that way, Mr. McPherson…"

He nodded and stood up, reaching for Hermione's hand for a congratulatory hand shake. "All in all, Miss Granger, you have, literally, created a life changing substance here. You will be in the history books for more than helping defeat the Dark."

"Most certainly, sir," Hermione croaked out, rather unenthusiastically.

When she returned to Hogwarts, Hermione couldn't help but feel disappointed with all that she discovered. Almost six weeks of research for her, and over 20 years for the Ministry was completed, and all it was worth for was for storage.

McPherson was right in thinking the risk to go back now was too high. Voldemort would still be alive, and Harry would have to defeat the Dark Lord all over again, with the chance he wouldn't succeed if they went far enough back in time. Still, Hermione's mind was buzzing with ideas of how much more the world could know if they could travel back. They could find out why certain terrible things happened and how they could prevent them from happening. They could discover why people did the things they did. Why they acted the way they did in present day.

Or…in the past.

Hermione was back in her rooms, changing into more comfortable clothing. After putting her robes away, she approached her mirror and began the struggle of brushing out her curly locks. But as she continued to comb, her thoughts wandered farther from research.

Why did people act the way they do? Why do people feel the way they do? _How did Snape end up the man he turned into?_

And the fire was ignited. That was it! Snape could be spared! There was no other way but to go back in time, figure him out, befriend him, and ideally convince him to not join the Death Eaters.

She set down her brush and inhaled slowly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She would be lying if she said the idea of travelling back in time to meet Snape never crossed her mind. But she knew now more than ever it was a part of her future.

_The past is part of my future._

True, she'd be risking her own future welfare and good name by doing such things. She would drastically change history as she knew it. If she succeeded, Snape would never become Dumbledore's spy and scape goat. But, then it would be possible that he wouldn't have to kill Dumbledore, meaning he wouldn't be involved with the Elder Wand, meaning he would be alive.

_But who would then take responsibilities and actions to help bring down Voldemort?_

Hermione weighed her options and risks. She decided that Snape was brilliant enough that he would survive the first and second war. No one ever dared to cross him without suffering the consequences. His general irksome disposition wouldn't change, so people wouldn't try to murder him without being provoked by him. And since Snape never picked fights, he would never try to be put in any situation his life would be in danger.

Hermione slowly lowered herself onto her bed and rubbed the top of her legs in nervousness. Because the Ministry had no intention of using the elixir, there wasn't any way to get it except to steal the formula, which was a class A felony. Even if she wasn't caught, she would be involved with people in the past who were supposed to meet her in the future, thus creating chaos. Which, in turn, would still leave her in a situation of committing a class A felony, corruption of time tampering. There was no way out.

But there was no other way to prove Snape's innocence, either.

She looked down at her left hand. How was she supposed to break the news to Ron? There was no way she was going to marry him when she returned, unless he wanted to spend their first 25 to 50 years of marriage visiting a cell in Azkaban.

She whimpered, feeling her heart break already. Ron would never forgive her for what she was about to do. He didn't risk his life for Harry and for her just to see his fiancée give up her innocence and her good name for a murderer. Even if he deserved to be exonerated.

_Snape deserves to have a good name for himself. And Ronald needs a woman who will love him fully and completely with no complications. I can't give him that._

Hermione didn't realize tears were falling from her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, trying to gain composure. She didn't want Ron to suspect anything, and she was meeting him for dinner in the Great Hall. He was devoted enough to her that he'd visit Hogwarts, even though he, George, and Harry had their own flat in Diagon Alley. Another wave of guilt rushed over her, but she willed herself to ignore it. No, she would worry about telling him later on. She did, after all, had a week until she'd visit the Ministry again. One week to live her life normally, and then she'd head back to the Department of Mysteries with a piece of 1977 and 1998 by her side.


	5. The Time Turning Elixir

**CHAPTER 5: THE TIME TURNING ELIXIR**

McGonagall gave Hermione permission to leave the castle and visit Ron, Harry, and George at their new flat in Diagon Alley. She dearly missed Harry, having not seen him since the Order of Merlin Ceremony. Even though he stopped by the castle often to see Ginny, Hermione had been so caught up with her school work, Head Girl duties, and her assistantship she never had the chance to see him.

But of course, Hermione knew Harry had personal belongings from his parents that were from 1977. She was hoping he would give something small up for her. He could never know the true reasons why, though. He would not approve of what she was trying to do. This fact made Hermione feel even guiltier than ever.

But time travel was her only option.

The four of them were relishing the mild autumn weather and enjoying each other's company. The three men, Hermione noted, were truly enjoying life, and she couldn't be happier for them, either. But the smile ebbed off her face when the reality hit her that this would probably be the last time she'd spend her time like this. Pointless, innocent, yet wonderful banter with close friends.

The group of them were about to step out for dinner and light shopping. Ron and George were in the kitchen, cleaning up the trays of tea while Harry was alone in the parlor with Hermione, the two of them sitting on the couch. He was resting his head on the back of the sofa, eyes closed, and smiling contently.

It was Hermione's only chance. "Harry, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at his best friend. "Sure thing, 'Mione."

Exhale. "I need a photo of your parents. Preferably one taken and developed in 1977. Or maybe not even a photo. Anything made in 1977 will suffice. I figured you'd have some of their belongings. I only chose the photos since we know exactly when they were made."

Harry straightened up on the couch and furrowed his brow. "Why do you need a picture of my parents?"

Hermione sighed. Of course it would be unavoidable. "Long story. Really. I…" A wonderful fib suddenly popped into her train of thought. "I think it will help me with my therapy."

That was the last thing Harry expected to hear. "You've finally decided to see someone, then? Wow, Hermione. I'm glad. I knew you were having a harder time than the rest of us, dealing with everything that happened in the war." He reached over and put his arm around Hermione's shoulder. "I'm glad you are taking the first step forward and getting your life back in control."

The corners of Hermione's mouth upturned slightly, trying to force a smile. Her insides were churning and she was expecting a higher power to smite her at any moment. What a lie. And the lies would continue until she distorted reality.

The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Snape would be freed. She couldn't explain the inclination of destroying everything to save his life, but something told her this was the right thing to do. That saving Snape was her destiny.

She willed herself to stop thinking and focus on fooling Harry about her therapy sessions. "Yes. My therapist says that understanding the past will help me accept what happened when we were kids, and then of course what happened with the second war and…all our losses. And where better to start than the year the Chosen One's parents began dating?"

Harry thought it over. "Very true. Curious though your therapist emphasized a photograph of a specific year. I mean, wouldn't any photo of my parents do?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I'm just going by what he said."

"Of course," Harry responded with a smile. Patting her gently on the back, he stood up to fetch his photo album.

Hermione sighed. That was way too easy. Ron and George finished cleaning up and were waiting with Hermione when Harry returned with the album in his hand.

"What's that for?" Ron asked before taking a bite out of an apple.

Hermione tried to brush him off quickly. "Oh, it's nothing. Harry's just giving me a photo of his mum and dad."

Harry beamed. "Yes. Didn't Hermione tell you about her therapy sessions?" Hermione internally groaned.

Ron looked bewildered. "You are, 'Mione? Golly, I didn't think you had the time."

Hermione didn't make eye contact with him and inspected one of the photos carefully. "It's nothing, Ron. Seriously. Don't worry about it," she said while hastily tucking a photo away inside her bag, finding that it was suitable for her experiment.

Harry and Ron exchanged perplexed glances as Hermione handed the album back to its owner. She stood up quickly, trying to ease the tension that suddenly crept up in the small apartment. "C'mon boys. We have some shopping to do!"

The four of them left for Diagon Alley. It seemed as if they forgot about the photo situation in the apartment. But for some unknown reason, Ron was unsettled by Hermione's suspicious activity. How could she have conveniently forgotten to mention to him she was in therapy? She obviously was comfortable talking to Harry about it. But Harry wasn't her fiancé; he was. What kind of relationship would they maintain if she couldn't talk to him about her feelings?

When Hermione went back to Hogwarts a few hours later, Ron's anxiety returned when he saw the photo album sitting on the coffee table where Harry left it last.

Harry noticed his concern. "She'll be alright, mate. You know she's a strong woman."

Ron shook his head and sat down. "I don't know, Harry. It seems like she's intentionally hiding things from me. I mean, how could she keep something as serious as therapy sessions from my knowledge?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm telling you, she's up to something. I don't like this, Harry. Not one bit."

Harry sighed and sat down next to the red head. "Who knows, Ron. Maybe she's not seeing a 'real' therapist, but she's trying her own method of dealing with the problems."

Ron scoffed. "Yeah. And judging by how guilty she was behaving, it can't be good, mate. It really can't.

* * *

Hermione swore the echoes in the long corridor of the Department of Mysteries were louder than they were the prior week. Her nerves were in high gear. She jumped at the slightest rustle of noise, at the faintest sound of a whisper. Perhaps the walls had ears and could sense her anxiousness, for she could sense admonishment from every corner and person in the department. But she rationed it was only her paranoid state attacking her intellect.

McPherson was nowhere to be found, and Hermione was growing impatient. She paced back and forth outside his office. When she arrived at the ministry, he wasn't at his desk like he his schedule said he would. She searched high and low across the department floor to no avail. If he took the day off…

"Miss Granger! I thought you were going to take some time off."

Hermione was taken aback by the sudden appearance of McPherson. "Mr. McPherson, sir. That was my original plan. However, I've had so many paranoid thoughts about our elixir. I think I may have miscalculated something and I was wondering if there would be anyway to work on it in the lab," she finished, surprised by her eloquence.

The head of the department politely brushed her off. "As noble as you are trying to be, Miss Granger, I'm afraid we have already sent the files into the vault. It's going to be shipped to Gringotts later today."

Hermione felt her throat constrict at the news. She had to convince McPherson to let her inside the vault. "But sir, this is important. If anyone is to take the formula, it could be devastating."

McPherson shook his head. "Do not worry, Miss Granger. If the formula is to be administered, we will be very careful in reading over the research and correcting any mistakes we find. Besides, if we use this, it won't be for decades. And by then, we might already have an alternative to this elixir."

Hermione's desperation showed as she followed her manager into his office. "No, sir. You don't understand. Please…"

Lukas set his belongings down on his desk. "My word is final, Hermione. The case is closed."

She was frozen to her spot on the floor as he sat down behind his desk and rifled through some paperwork. Hermione's emotions were running in a frenzy. She was seeing red, stomach churning with anger, but her eyes were panicked, trying to think of an alternative way to get safely into the vault.

Maybe there wasn't a safe way. But it would be too late for her if she waited and it was taken to Gringotts.

For the first time in her life, Hermione stopped thinking.

Lukas looked up from his paperwork to find a wand being pointed straight at him. "Miss Granger, what is all of this?" he croaked nervously, staring anxiously at the tip of her wand.

"Let me inside the vault, Mr. McPherson. I need access to that formula," she whispered coldly.

He remained seated in his chair, slowly rolling his chair away from the weapon. "It is illegal for you to use the formula without Ministry regulation. Surely you don't want to spend time in Azkaban after all you have done for the world."

She stepped closer to him. "I know what I'm doing, sir. I'm a very bright witch. You are well aware of that. Trust me."

He gulped, his focus still on her wand. "How can I trust you if you are brandishing your wand at me?"

She still remained at the ready for a few moments, and then slowly lowered her wand. "Will you let me inside the vault if I don't harm you?"

Lukas quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry. I cannot. But I will promise you, if you drop this issue right now, I will not turn you into the authorities for attempt of assault."

Hermione's wand was pointed at McPherson once more. "That's not good enough, sir."

"No. You won't have it any other way!"

"Don't make me do this," she half pleaded, half threatened.

"I WILL NOT YIELD!"

"IMPERIO!" she cried.

All of the sudden, Lukas's eyes were glazed and he was relaxed in his chair, a gentle smile creeping on his face.

"_You will get inside the vault, Lukas, and you will retrieve the formula for me."_ Hermione commanded.

"Of course," he responded automatically, and immediately stood up to leave the room to fetch the files.

Hermione trembled as she lowered herself into her usual chair, trying to keep focus on Lukas's mind under the spell. Numerous people stopped him as he made his way to the vault, and his response was typical. "Sorry. Official business. Do not disturb." Many people did not think twice of this. Unspeakables, after all, were not very talkative people.

Not even five minutes later, McPherson returned with a sealed box full of the research. Hermione commanded him to sit back down behind his desk, while she shrunk the box to fit inside her bag. She then lifted the spell, but once again aimed her wand at the man.

He was trembling, looking at her with disdain. "There's a cell in Azkaban waiting for you as we speak, Granger." He spat weakly at her. "You attacked me with an Unforgivable Curse."

Her wand shook a little. "If I'm successful at this, Lukas, it will be worth it."

He shook his head at her. "You had such a promising future…"

"The future is what we make of it, sir." She pointed her wand more deftly at him. "Stupefy!"

The horror in his eyes disappeared as the spell went into effect and he lost consciousness in his chair. She stood there, frozen in her spot. The severity of what she had done had not hit her yet, but she realized that her life would no longer be the same.

Before flooing back to her quarters, Hermione quickly eradicated the memory of the past 20 minutes from his mind. She assumed she gave herself a good 24 hours before the Ministry broke the memory charm and found out the truth of her actions that afternoon. By then, she hopefully would be 20 years into the past.

When she reached her room, Hermione collapsed onto her bed. Emotionally on the brink of disaster, she began crying.

She cried over what she had just done to a good man. She cried over what she was about to do to her fiancé, she cried over Snape. And she cried over the uncertainty and the fear she was dreading when she took the elixir.

She didn't know where she got her strength, but she got up off her bed and went to her desk, pulling out a piece of clean parchment. Crying consistently, she began writing a letter to Ron.

_Ronald,_

_By the time you get this, I'll either be far, far away, or locked up in a cell at Azkaban. Whichever the future leads me, I know for a fact I have broken your heart. I'm deeply and truly sorry for all that I have done to hurt you, and for all that I am about to do that will surely never allow you to forgive me. _

_If you do forgive me, I know it will take me a long time to allow myself to understand why you have done so, for I do not deserve your forgiveness._

_You know how hard I've taken the losses of the War. Losing Remus, Tonks, Fred, Moody, Snape. They didn't have to die. He didn't have to die. I'm leaving here to learn why all of it happened. Maybe I can stop it. _

_You'll learn soon enough where I'm going. You won't be able to contact me, but you'll feel my presence. I hope it doesn't make life painful or unbearable. _

_Ronald, my love, you are better without me. Whenever I return, life will be too chaotic, and I don't want the damage I do to mess up your life. I'm returning your ring, in hopes that one day you can forgive me and I can officially be the wife you deserve._

_I do love you, Ronald Weasley. Do not doubt that for a moment. But I need to do this for me. I will miss you dearly._

_All my love,_

_Hermione._

She didn't bother to reread the letter, but sealed it with her engagement ring safely tucked inside. She pushed the letter to the edge of her desk. Sending it by owl post would notify Ron what she was about to do and he would try to stop her. She couldn't have that. Hopefully, when everyone would realize she had gone missing, they would break into her rooms and they could find the letter.

Hermione stood up and grabbed her bag, emptying the contents to find the miniaturized box of files she stole from the Ministry. After returning it to its original size, she opened it and extracted the contents. The box contained all the official paperwork of the project from years ago, filed neatly in different folders. But at the bottom of the box, she discovered a smaller container.

Setting the paperwork aside, Hermione opened the smaller box, finding it contained two small vials of the clear blue elixir. She exhaled, realizing that this treasure would save her hours of brewing. She could potentially be back in the 70s by that evening.

It was now or never. She summoned her small pewter cauldron and poured the contents of both vials inside it. The instructions in the files said to slowly simmer the potion. Once it began to bubble, Hermione had to add the time constants.

After what seemed like forever, the blue potion was shimmering in the cauldron. Hermione grabbed the photo of Lily and James from her bag and whispered a hovering charm over it to hang it over the elixir bubbling merrily.

She had her wand aimed at the photograph but stopped short of shredding it to look at the happy couple. Lily was staring at James with all the love in the world, while James smiled contently, putting his arm around the young woman leaning her head against his shoulder. Lily closed her eyes as James placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

Hermione's heart clenched. At that moment she couldn't want anything more than to have Ron's warm embrace enveloping her, and his soothing voice reassuring her that everything was going to be alright.

But things weren't going to be alright. Her behavior in the past two hours made her a felon. She had no choice in the matter. She had to escape.

With one last glance at Harry's parents, she shredded the photograph in microscopic pieces with a flick of her wand and stirred them into the elixir. The potion suddenly darkened to an opaque black.

Hermione quickly turned off the heat on the cauldron and pricked her finger, adding three drops of her blood into the potion. She assumed nothing was more "present time" that her actual blood flowing through her veins at that very moment. With each drop, the color changed once more into a deep cerulean blue.

Everything was happening as expected, which made Hermione relax. At least she didn't have to worry about possibly poisoning herself.

As the potion cooled in the cauldron, she reached inside the file box and found extra needles and syringes for the injection process. Hermione herself was nervous of needles, but there was no other proper way of getting the elixir into her blood stream.

As instructed, she rolled up the sleeve of her blouse and pointed her wand at her forearm, trying to locate a larger vein in her arm. The tip of her wand glowed red when she found one below her wrist, and gently marked it with a black mark from her quill.

She returned to the cauldron and measured out enough elixir to send her back for 20 weeks. She hoped that would be enough time to get her work done. If not…

She shook her head and got the needle and syringe ready for injection. To say Hermione was nervous would be an understatement. Her arm was shaking as she swabbed the area on her arm with alcohol. Maybe it would be easier if she took care of it with magic.

She kept her arm extended as she motioned the needle into position with her wand. Closing her eyes, she felt the uncomfortable piercing from the needle as it broke into her flesh. She set down her wand as soon as she saw some blood, signaling everything was in place.

It was now or never. Once again, she closed her eyes and pushed down the plunger from the syringe, extracting the Time Turning Elixir into her body.

She felt the power of the elixir quickly spreading through her body, like the warmth of a fire in a hearth. It tingled in her fingers and toes. Her breathing quickened and her heart sped up. She felt her muscles tense up and she opened her eyes.

She was still in her quarters.

* * *

Harry was finishing up his dinner when an owl tapped on his window, an _Evening Prophet_ clutched in its talons.

He went up and paid for the paper, taking it back to the table. He liked to read the paper as he sipped his tea. However, the front page news spread took him by surprised, and he spat out the Earl Grey across the countertop.

Ron rushed in at the sound of Harry's coughing fit. "You alright, mate?"

Harry nodded, trying to control his breathing and coughing. "Think so. But check out this article." The boys read the column.

_ATTACK IN THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES_

_Lukas Samuel McPherson, 59, Head of the Department of Mysteries was found inside his office at 5:30 PM this afternoon, suffering from the effects of a Stunning Hex and a strategically placed Memory charm._

_McPherson, although otherwise unharmed, was found to have aftereffects of the Imperius Curse, Quincy Hopeman, Head Healer of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, stated to Ministry officials._

_The Imperius Curse is one of three Unforgiveable Curses. Those who are caught casting any of them automatically receive a life sentence in Azkaban Prison, possible parole pending trial sentencing. _

"_We have not had any reports of suspicious activity within our departments here at the Ministry of Magic," Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt stated. "However, we shall take this situation with extreme caution, especially with the secrecy and confidentiality of the Department of Mysteries. We will catch this Dark felon and justice shall be served."_

_Investigators and Aurors say no unaccounted visitors were in the Department of Mysteries this afternoon. However, a top secret case that shall not be disclosed to the public was found to be missing from the Ministry's temporary vault. It was to be sent to Gringotts later today. Investigators believe that the culprit place the Imperius Curse on McPherson in order to retrieve the case files for that project. _

_Officials also say that McPherson's floo grate was active that afternoon. They believe that was the means of travel for the suspect._

_Ministry officials and healers have begun to break the memory charm placed on McPherson. He is said to be in stable condition at St. Mungos._

Harry was apprehensive. Ron was confused. "Do you think someone is trying to gather power again, and they are starting in the Department of Mysteries?"

Harry shook his head, a little annoyed with the redhead. "Ron, Hermione works for the Department of Mysteries."

Ron wasn't following Harry. "So? She had the weekend off. I don't think she would be tied up in this stuff."

Harry stood up and quickly moved to the living room. "I'm going to contact a few people from the Auror Department. I don't have a good feeling about this."

Ron shrugged his shoulders and grabbed some of the food that was still on the stove. Not even ten minutes later, Harry rushed into the room, throwing on his cloak hastily. "Ron, we have to find Hermione. And quickly."

Ron furrowed his brow. "Why? What's going on, Harry?"

Harry was throwing his necessary items into his bag. "It was a new Time Turner project that was stolen from the vault. Hermione was involved with that research. The curse breakers haven't managed to clear the memory charm from McPherson yet, but plenty of witnesses say they saw Hermione talking to him earlier this afternoon."

Ron's face paled. "You don't think Hermione…"

"That's why we have to find her. I can't believe she'd actually try something like this. An Unforgiveable Curse? That doesn't sound like our Hermione."

Ron suddenly lost his appetite. "Harry, do we even know who she is anymore?" he whispered in defeat.

Harry handed a cloak to his friend. "Don't give up on her yet, Ron. C'mon, we have to find her before she does anything drastic."

* * *

Hermione began to panic. She assumed that when she would take the potion, it would automatically transport her back in time. She was still in her quarters just like before.

She ripped the needle out of her arm and grabbed her cloak, rushing out of her room to see if anything at all changed. But she discovered that nothing in the castle was different.

Tears streamed down her face at the reality that all of her efforts and illegal actions were for nothing. In less than 12 hours, the Ministry will discover that it was her who attacked McPherson and stole the Time Turning Elixir files, and she would be sent to Azkaban for the rest of her life.

She pushed through a slow moving group of students. A few lost their footing and fell as she ran past them. She couldn't muster the strength to turn around and apologize. All she could think about was running away.

Her feet let her past the Entrance Hall and on to the grounds. Her tears were beginning to blind her as the setting sun casted an eerie glow onto the sloping hills surrounding her. A few times she stumbled and fell, rolling on the grass, but she immediately got up and continued to run. She didn't stop until she lost the ability to breathe properly.

Because of her running and crying, she was gasping for air. Her legs and entire body was trembling from all the exertion. To gather her strength, she leaned up against a large marble stone in the middle of the grounds.

Slowly, Hermione realized it wasn't any ordinary stone she leaned upon. It was Albus Dumbledore's grave.

Hermione wiped the sweat off her face and brushed back the hair that escaped the messy bun on top of her head. She glared disdainfully at the tomb, with the feeling of jealousy edging into her emotions. Jealousy that he had escaped the horrors of the War. And that he was free from it all.

A new rush of tears consumed her, and she was about to collapse onto her knees when a reflection caught her eye from the setting sun.

A few feet away, a much smaller grave stone sat upon the newly grown grass. Black and smooth marble adorned the headstone, and Hermione could barely make out the name engraved on top with the dimming light. But when she deciphered the words, her breath caught in her throat.

_Severus Tobias Snape_

_Born: January 9, 1960_

_Expired: May 1, 1998_

"_The Secret of Redemption Lies in Remembrance."_

A very simple headstone, yet so profound to Hermione. She brushed her fingers against the smooth marble.

"So appropriate, sir," she whispered, "And yet, you cannot be redeemed because they do not know the truth." She collapsed to her knees. "I'm so sorry, sir. I have failed you." Hermione freely let her emotions go. Tears sprinkled the recently broken ground and she rested her head against the gravestone, mourning the loss of her beloved tragic hero, her Potions Master, Severus Snape.

She must have cried herself into exhaustion, because Hermione could not find the strength to get up and continue her way to the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't find the strength to do much but lay against Snape's grave. Her limbs felt especially heavy, and so did her eyelids.

There was no reason to run, and the night was beautiful enough that she wanted to enjoy the stars on the last night as a free woman. She fell into a deep sleep under the canopy of twinkling lights, and Snape's body lying six feet below her.

* * *

Harry and Ron's anxiety increased ten fold when they reached Hogwarts to find that Hermione was nowhere to be found. Even the Headmistress had no idea where she was. She assumed that she was helping out with the investigation at the Department of Mysteries.

Checking the usual spots in the Library was to no avail. Gryffindor Common Room as well.

Their last beacon of hope was her separate quarters. Because the boys still had no luck finding the girl, McGonagall allowed them access into her rooms. As the boys entered, they were met with their worst fear.

Harry found the room as she left it. The cauldron was still on the table, as well as the files from the research. He picked up the used needle and syringe, grasping it tightly in his grip.

"She's gone," Ron croaked behind him from her desk.

"We don't know that for sure, Ron." Harry reassured him. He turned around to find his best friend pale, clutching a letter in one hand and something else fisted in the other.

"No. She is. It's written right here," he sat down in the chair by the desk. "She's broken our engagement as well."

Harry rushed to his side, not believing what he was hearing. Sure enough, Ron was right. Hermione was gone.

And as the boys read through the papers sifted through the file folders, they knew she went back in time to 1977, the same year as the photo Harry lent his best friend. For what, or for how long, they had no idea.

* * *

_A/N: The quote on Snape grave is by Richard von Weizsaecker._

_What a week it's been. Such a relief to get this chapter posted. A real stress reliever. I barely had time to eat, it was that hectic. But it's another week down. Enjoy this post!_


	6. Vertigo

**CHAPTER 6: VERTIGO**

As Hermione regained conscious, her senses flared up. The smell around her was not of her quarters. In fact, the more she inhaled, the more she recognized the smell of grass and dew. She shivered, and then realized she was not in her bed or under the warmth of her comforter.

Opening her eyes, she was welcomed to the sight of rolling slopes and hills. Judging by the dim light casted by the rising sun, it was early morning, perhaps an hour or so after dawn. Her muscles ached and her head was pounding.

She was confused as to why the past few hours were barely recollecting with her. She shook her head, wondering if she had too much to drink the prior night. How did she ended up passing out outside the safety of the castle walls?

Hermione got up off the ground and stretched out her limbs, then wrapped her cloak around her, willing the coldness of the early morning to seep out of her skin. She stumbled her way up the slippery slope of the dew covered hill, not concentrating on her footing because she was trying to remember what all happened the day before.

A few bits and pieces came at her as she made it to the main doors of the castle. Waking up, getting to the Department of Mysteries…

She gasped. That's right. She went to the Ministry to steal the formula, and ended up attacking McPherson instead. Her stomach twisted in a knot, wondering if the Magical Enforcement Squad would be waiting for her inside.

To Hermione's surprise, the castle was typically quiet for an early Sunday morning. She noticed a few early risers heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. But as she made her way up the stairs to her quarters, the more students she passed, the more she realized she didn't recognize _any _of them.

A sharp pain soared through her body as the reality hit her. It was one of the most painful muscle spasm she ever had, and she had to lean against the cold stone wall for support as she breathed heavily, willing the pain to subside.

Her head was still pounding as her body relaxed slightly. It couldn't be. She was certain the elixir didn't work. She remembered ripping the needle out of her arm and running as far away from the castle as she could.

And then she remembered the graves. The graves that definitely were not there that morning when she woke up.

Hermione turned around abruptly and briskly headed her way towards the Great Hall once more. She had to know for sure…

She walked through the giant doors of the hall. Nothing looked amiss at first. Each table was occupied with a few students scattered about, mostly eating silently and reading books or papers. But once again, she didn't recognize a single face.

Hermione was frozen at the entranceway, at a loss when it came to the control of her emotions. Her usual rational gleam in her eye was lost as she scanned the room. She was getting hysterical.

She then felt a pair of eyes watching her from behind as her breathing became frantic. Gasping for air, she reached over to the end of the Ravenclaw table to stop herself from collapsing. She was almost successful, but her knees gave out before she could sit down properly.

Hermione felt her head spinning and her muscles ceased up once more. She recognized her vision fading fast, a sign she was about to lose consciousness. But in her state of mind, Hermione almost welcomed it. As her weight shifted behind her, she was anticipating a knock to the back of her head as it hit the solid floor. She however, did not expect a pair of arms to catch her by her elbows.

"My dear child, are you alright?" A familiar comforting male voice covered her like a blanket. She managed to gain her footing back, although she still felt her entire body trembling.

"I…I don't think so sir. I…" She didn't finish her thought, because she turned around to face the man who caught her.

"Professor Dumbledore." She stuttered, gripping his forearms for good measure.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at her from above his spectacles. "Have we met?" At his innocent question, Hermione began having a full fledged panic attack, and Dumbledore had to quickly usher her outside the Great Hall to avoid creating a scene as more student poured in for breakfast.

He sat her down on a stone bench in the entrance hall near the giant hourglasses full of the beads that counted the House points. He rubbed her back soothingly as she gasped and choked, trying to calm herself down. This was all too surreal.

"I apologize for all that, sir. You, literally and figuratively speaking, caught me by surprise."

The older man chuckled. "Judging by your reaction, I'd say you behaved as if you saw a ghost."

_Oh the irony. If you only knew, Professor, _she thought. She shook her head and straightened up, still aware of the sharp pains shooting through her body. Her discomfort was evident to the wizard.

"Come, let me take you to the infirmary. We can get you some Calming Draught, and then you can tell me all about you."

Hermione had no idea how Dumbledore already suspected something, even though they "just met." He assisted her to the infirmary, but he allowed her to lead the way. It was as if he knew she was from the future generation of Hogwarts.

When they got to the hospital wing, Hermione was grateful that she didn't recognize the mediwitch. Judging by the state she was in, a muscle spasm occurred when she was reunited with a member of someone she associated with in the future. The pain diminished more if she was surrounded by less people.

The elderly mediwitch and Dumbledore ushered her on one of the beds to rest as they got the Calming Draught ready. Dumbledore was whispering something to the woman. She nodded briskly, handed him the potion and left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

Dumbledore sat down next to Hermione on the bed, gently handing her the draught, which she drank most willingly. The glass was empty and immediately she felt a sense of calmness, but now the silence around her was deafening.

She felt the glass leave her grip as Dumbledore retrieved it and set it down on the nearest bedside table. "Now, child. Please start from the beginning. You obviously know who I am, so would you tell me who you are?"

"Who doesn't know who you are, sir?" she asked as a diversion.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "Very true assessment, miss. But please humor an elderly wizard, and tell me your name."

"It's…uh…" she looked around the room, "It's Turner. Mia Turner."

The old wizard sighed. "I see, Miss Turner. Glad to meet your acquaintance. However, under the circumstances, I cannot allow you to stay here at Hogwarts. We live in dark times, and we simply can't afford to allow strangers to stay. Particularly ones who will not disclose their true identity," he added with a knowing glance, his blue eyes twinkling.

Hermione's face dropped. "Sir, I beg of you. I'm not in a right state to be leaving. Hogwarts is the only place I am familiar with. I'd certainly die if I am cast out. I don't think you'd believe me if I was honest with you. Please…"

Dumbledore grasped her hands in his for reassurance. "Miss Turner, we do not have to resort to that, but I do need to know the truth about you. Your secret will be safe with me, and no other person needs to know."

She sighed. "Alright, sir. My name is Hermione Jean Granger, and I am…was a student of Hogwarts in the year 1998."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, eyebrows raised in astonishment. "Fascinating, Miss Granger. It's no wonder I felt my head split open this morning. That's probably when you burst through the time barrier, am I correct?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I can't be sure. I took the elixir last night and I thought it didn't work." She met his blue eyes once more. "In lieu to the fact I know about your future, sir, I think it is best if I don't disclose my full purpose of travelling here. I promise you I am not here to sabotage anything. I just need five months of time here."

He smiled at her gently. "I'm sure we can arrange something for you, Miss Granger. Do tell me at least more of your career here while I write up a few things to get you situated."

Hermione explained to him the basics of her education, not including the facts outside her schoolwork. It would distort too much too soon if she went step by step through the events leading to the destruction of the Sorcerer's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, the Triwizard Tournament, and so on. She listed the courses she took, her grades, her house and the years she completed school.

Dumbledore was surprisingly very easy to work with. He didn't pressure her to disclose more information than necessary, and he was fully trustworthy of her responses to his questions. Hermione noted that he did study Legillimency, which probably made it easier to decipher her answers and separate the truths from the lies. In a matter of forty minutes, he arranged for her to stay with the other Gryffindors, and sent off an order for books and new clothing to sport while she was staying.

"I hope you do not mind staying with the rest of the 7th years, Miss Granger. We already have the Head Girl's quarters occupied, so that was out of our control. But I'm sure you are acquainted with the life of a dormitory," Dumbledore explained as he walked her to Gryffindor Tower.

"Of course, sir. The dormitory will be perfect. I'm forever in your debt when it comes to this situation. The books, the clothing, the rooms. I have no idea how I shall repay you."

They stopped in front of the familiar portrait of the Fat Lady. "Complete what you really came here for, Miss Granger. That in itself will be enough for me. To know that you succeeded."

She quirked her brow. "Sir, how do you know what I'm trying to do?"

"Ah. Well, old men know these things. Quite frankly, I have no idea what you are talking about. But it must be important if you are risking your future to do so. You don't seem like an irrational buffoon to me." Despite his reassurance of ignorance, his eyes still twinkled like he knew her secret. "Here is your class schedule, Miss Granger. Don't let this little trip disrupt your education. Hogwarts is first and foremost a school, after all."

Hermione nodded. "You will soon discover Professor Dumbledore, that learning is a weakness of mine."

He chuckled and patted her gently on the back. "I think I've already known that. Here you go, child. If you have any questions, both the Head Boy and Head Girl are Gryffindors this term. James Potter and Lily Evans. They will be gracious enough to assist you."

"James and Lily!" she exclaimed, completely forgetting they too were students at this time.

"Do you know them?" Dumbledore asked, curiously.

"Yes. Well, sort of." Awkward silence. "Let's leave it at that."

"Ah. Yes. Disclosing the future is a very tricky business. Make sure you use extreme caution when talking to your new colleagues, Miss Granger. Do not disclose too much information about the future, or you might suffer great consequences when you return home."

Hermione nodded. "Understood, sir. And thank you again for everything. This is going to help me so much."

"You're welcome. And best of luck to you." Dumbledore gave the password and turned around while Hermione climbed through the portrait hole.

The Common Room was just as welcoming as it was in the future. The only differences she could sense were the ancient looking curtains hanging against the window sill. The chairs looked newer and cleaner, and the table that was usually occupied by her was now a wizards chess tournament center.

More students were waking up. Hermione felt anxious as their eyes landed upon her. The room was slowly realizing an unfamiliar face graced their presence. She tried to hide her insecurities by sitting down in one of the armchairs in front of the fire. This hid her from the view of the other Gryffindors, but left her feeling extremely homesick.

Hermione had forgotten how hard it was to be the new kid again. How difficult it was to make new friends. She sunk back into her chair, willing that she would become invisible. She didn't feel it was her place to go to the dormitory until someone led her to them. She would have to remember to play dumb a lot of the time. People would question how she got all the information and knowledge of the school so quickly.

Hermione then realized how unprepared she was. The only thing her mind was focused on for the past few weeks was actually travelling back in time, and to eventually save Snape. But now, how was she supposed to approach people? How was she to convince Snape that she was trustworthy enough to be his friend? He would be about 17 years old, probably almost an official Death Eater.

Discouraging thoughts passed through her mind. _I'm a silly know-it-all Mudblood. He's a knowledgable man who probably isn't fooled too easily. Why would he want to have anything to do with me? Oh Hermione, you should have thought about this sooner…_

She sighed out loud. It was a little too late to rethink why she did something so drastic. It wasn't like her to jump into something without a full detailed concrete plan. She rubbed her head, not sure if the new bout of pain was from thinking too hard or from the time travel.

"Are you Hermione Granger?" A voice behind her asked.

Hermione turned her head to face a red headed girl with very familiar green eyes. It was strange to see her best friend's eyes mirrored in the beautiful woman standing behind her. But then again, it was strange to be meeting a person when you know the aspects of their future.

"Yes," she answered, plainly.

The red headed girl smile and sat down on the chair next to Hermione's. "Professor Dumbledore sent me an urgent owl saying we had a new student here. I'm Lily Evans, the Head Girl. Can I show you up to the rooms?"

Hermione smiled, relishing the friendliness and the warm welcome Lily was giving her. "Oh, that would be wonderful!"

As they opened the door to the 7th years' rooms, Hermione found that a bed was already made up for her, along with the other necessary things Dumbledore mentioned he'd get sent up. She shook her head at his quickness. "You'll never cease to amaze me, Dumbledore," she said mostly to herself.

"Oh, so you've known Dumbledore for a while, then?" Lily chimed in.

_Bollocks!_ "Oh, we met at a conference this summer for…for potions."

"Dumbledore likes potions?"

"_Stop digging yourself trenches, Granger!" _"Oh, no. Hogwarts just participated in some lectures and such. Who better to represent than the actual Headmaster?" Hermione sprawled out on her bed. "That's how I ended up here. My parents were working in France for a while and I went to Beauxbaton. But mostly, I had to get private tutors because of the language barrier."_ You think you'd be lousy at languages? Granger, you need to learn how to lie._

It seemed good enough for Lily, because she didn't question it. "Oh that would be difficult. I know a little French myself since my family goes on a holiday there. But I could never learn anything without slowing everyone else down!"

Hermione sat up. "Exactly! I begged them to send me here, but they said they'd miss me too much."

Lily made her way to the bed to sit down. "What do they do?"

"They're dentists. It's a type of muggle doctor that…"

"Ooh! You're muggleborn like me! Fantastic. I finally have someone to bond with!"

How could Hermione forget Lily was a muggleborn? She smiled. "That would be great. Although you and I both know "bonding" will actually be sessions of us complaining left and right about the indecency of society."

Lily sighed. "Too true. We have to work twice as hard to get the same status as those…Purebloods." She shook her head. "Anyways, here's some advice for you. I don't know how they did it at Beauxbaton, but you have an advantage of being a new student. Don't fully disclose your bloodline. It'll make life a lot easier for you. Things are getting more and more difficult as the war continues to escalate…"

Lily's voice faded a bit. Hermione could tell her mind was floating through situations of injustice and pain. Such heavy conversation at their first interaction. Hermione wished to steer it to something more pleasant.

"Could you tell me about the professors here, Lily?"

Lily smiled, and her eyes lit up. "Sure. Let's get some breakfast while we're at it." And the two of them chatted on the way to the Great Hall.

They sat down at the long Gryffindor table, discussing her course lists and interests. Lily remembered what Hermione said in the dormitory. "You have an interest in potions?"

Hermione grabbed a piece of toast and spread some preserves on it. "Well, that's my focus for now. But anything can change. I really enjoy potions because it requires more logic than any other magical subject. How is the potions professor here?"

Lily motioned towards the head table. "Professor Slughorn is brilliant. He definitely does know his stuff, but sometimes he's a bit biased in the ways of his teaching. He favors people with potential, and those with famous families. But I guess that's better than favoring certain house groups, right?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, remembering his little 'Slug Club.' "It would discourage others, though, those that don't fall in either category," she admitted.

"True. Lucky for me, he adores me. I mean, I can't take all the credit. I had an excellent tutor a few years ago…" her voice weakened at her last few words.

There was a heavy silence. Hermione pursed her lips. Lily couldn't be referring to anyone but Snape. She followed the other girl's eyes and turned around, finding the object of her thoughts sitting alone across the hall, reading a large book and sipping tea.

Hermione couldn't remember when she stopped breathing. But somewhere along the line of turning her head and seeing her future professor very much alive and well, nothing else mattered. To her, everything in the room disappeared, save for the young Slytherin.

"Don't bother with him, Hermione. I've tried to get through to him for years. He's made his decision and he wants nothing to do with us Mudbloods," Lily stated sadly.

Hermione turned back to face the food. "No, it's not that. It's just…strange…surreal almost…"

Lily gave her a perplexed look. "What do you mean?"

Hermione was saved from explaining herself when a disheveled teen sat down right next to the red head and grumbled. Lily scoffed.

"Ugh, Potter. It's not that late. Don't whine. Besides, Dumbledore summoned you and yet you didn't show up."

"Busy night, Lil. I was up real late with the guys," James explained while stifling a yawn and grabbing a danish.

Hermione was mesmerized by the boy sitting across from her. Her mentors didn't lie about the fact Harry was a spitting image of his father. Unruly, unkempt hair, eyeglasses, lean and lank figure. The only difference would be his eyes. Lily's eyes. And the missing scar on his forehead.

"That's not what Mary tells me, James. Stop pretending that you're not a softy. I heard you were outside the girl's lavatory comforting Janie after her boyfriend broke up with her."

James turned crimson. "Yeah, well that's what happens when you date a Slytherin. And after that, I did stay up for a couple rounds of Exploding Snap with Sirius. So I didn't lie completely."

Lily rolled her eyes playfully and glanced at him from behind her lashes. Hermione assumed they weren't dating just yet, but she could sense the sparks flying between the two of them. Even with James's playful banter of throwing crumpled up napkins at her head and chuckling.

Lily picked up the discarded napkin and threw it back at James. "Alright, you git. Focus. This here is Hermione Granger. She's a new student for the next five months. Hermione, this is James Potter. He's our Head Boy, unfortunately."

James smirked at Lily's introduction and leaned in across the table to whisper to Hermione. "You know, she pretends she can't stand me. But we all know she actually thinks I'm irresistible." Hermione giggled as James's response earned a hard slap across the back of his head from Lily.

"Honestly, if your head was any bigger, Potter, they'd use it as the quaffle," Lily retorted. "Anyways, Hermione, James and I are going to show you around the castle and introduce you to more people. C'mon!"

For the next few hours after breakfast, Hermione was given a tour of the entire castle from the dungeons up to the owlery. She had to catch herself a few times from relaying the both of them stories of her times at Hogwarts, because she remembered she was pretending she never was at the school before.

The three of them made it to a later lunch after the tour was completed. There, Hermione was introduced to more Gryffindors, as well as a few other students from other Houses. She was enthralled by the environment around her. In certain ways, Hogwarts had not changed in over 20 years. But the subtle differences were profound in the way she had to appear.

She remembered how her own fellow students behaved as the second war broke out. Dumbledore strictly emphasized unity between all houses, and wanted all of them to be on the same side. Hermione noted how this was not the case the first time around. Slytherins were a group unto themselves. Some of them had tried to associate with the rest of the other students in the school, but the prejudice and stereotype of Slytherins won the opinions of others. They naturally were set as outcasts.

A few other students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff seemed as if they tried to surpass the stereotypes. But it was obvious that their efforts were warranted. From the rejections the Slytherin house gave everyone, it was as if their own stereotypes of the other house members were clouding their own vision.

Truly this time around, the Houses were divided.

Hermione remembered stories Harry told her about what Snape said about his father and the rest of his friends. He truly had an air of dominance and arrogance. But yet, he was personable enough for her. All the Gryffindors at the time had that quality. In a way it bothered Hermione. No one could claim superiority just because they were sorted into a certain House. She knew that one day within the next few weeks it would get to her. She had to brace herself. Patience, after all, was a virtue.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter were introduced to Hermione when they returned back to the common room. She winced through the handshakes as a full fledged muscled spasm raced through her body. Her eyes were watering as she quickly excused herself to sit on the nearby sofa.

"Are you alright," a concerned Remus Lupin asked her when he saw the pain rush through her features.

Hermione curled herself into a fetal position as she sat at the edge of the couch. "I'll be alright, Remus, but thank you for your concern."

Remus reached into his pocket and handed her some chocolate. "It will make you feel better. Trust me. I'm more often sick and in the infirmary than not."

She chuckled at the déjà vu she was experiencing. "You are one for your remedies, Remus."

"Well, actually, chocolate is the only one I know about."

Hermione bit her lip. "Right." She cursed inwardly. Pretending was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

He patted her on the back. "Let me know if you need anything."

She smiled back at him. "And you, likewise. If you miss too many classes I'll definitely help you catch up."

He nodded and stood up to go as Sirius and Peter took his spot on the couch. "So, Granger. Tell me more about yourself." Sirius said while popping Bertie Botts Beans into his mouth.

"I don't know. What's there to say, Black?" she said while pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate the pain that subsided in her head.

Peter laughed. "Oh c'mon Granger. You don't need to give us attitude."

Maybe it was because she knew who's side Peter was on, but Hermione decided to give him the cold shoulder. "Peter, you have yet to see me give attitude. And you don't need to know anything about me but the fact I transferred here from Beauxbaton Academy." She glared at the stout wizard.

"Don't worry about Peter, Hermione. He just likes to add to the enthusiasm. Although when it comes to James and me, I think there's enough of it to go around." Sirius laughed heartily.

Hermione gave a little smile and shook her head. "Sirius, you truly can be a pain in the arse."

"You're probably right. But you shouldn't pass judgment on me so quickly. You just met me!"

She stared intensely at the dark haired boy, and he flashed his winning smile at her. "I have a gift at reading people instantly, Black. You can't fool me."

Sirius raised his hands in defeat. "Alright, alright. You win. I'm an arse. But a very good looking one." Hermione couldn't help but laughing. Sirius really did have a vibrant personality. She was glad to know that Azkaban didn't destroy it completely in the future.

But still, her headache persisted. "Well, boys. It's been a real pleasure, but I think I'm going to stay in the Hospital Wing overnight. My migraines really take a toll on me. I'll see you later."

"Do you need help finding the Infirmary? I'll escort you," Sirius offered.

Hermione shook her head, not wanting to tell him he's the reason for the pain, in more ways than one. "I'll manage. Thanks though."

The peaceful corridors were a blessing for Hermione. Already, the pain was reduced to a light throbbing. She really hoped that the rest of her stay at Hogwarts in 1977 would eventually be free of discomfort and she could function normally. But for now, she had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Hermione entered the empty infirmary to find the mediwitch filing through some papers. She looked up at the sound of her footsteps. "Ah, Miss Granger. How are you enjoying Hogwarts so far?"

She smiled politely. "As expected, Madam. The students here so far are very welcoming."

The older witch stood up from her desk. "I don't think I introduced myself to you. I'm Healer Trammell. If there's anything of medical assistance you need, just swing by and I'll be happy to help."

"Thank you, m'am. I actually stopped by to ask if I could stay overnight here. I have a terrible headache and the peacefulness here is better than the rowdiness of the Common Room."

"Of course, Miss Granger. Let me get a bed set up for you." The healer rushed toward the cabinets behind her to grab extra blankets and sheets. "Oh Severus," she called out, "You finished my list already? How wonderful!"

Hermione froze in her spot and once again her breath caught in her throat. The very person whom she travelled back decades for was standing right behind her. She willed herself to turn around to face him.

Hermione successfully made eye contact with the familiar face standing at the entranceway, holding a crate of bottles. His black orbs glimmering in the torchlight of the infirmary.

"Where should I place this crate, Ms. Trammell?" he asked, not breaking eye contact with Hermione.

"Oh, over there on my desk, dear," she called out from inside the closet. She walked out with handful of linens in her arms, which Hermione offered to carry to one of the beds. "Thank you, Miss Granger. Severus, have you met our new student? Hermione, this is Severus Snape. He's a 7th year like you, but he's already surpassed me when it comes to medicinal potions brewing. You can't beat his Pepper-up Potion."

Snape approached Hermione, crate still in hand. "Forgive me, Miss Hermione. I would shake your hand but I'm preoccupied at the moment." Although polite in phrase, there was a coldness that enveloped Hermione as he said this.

"Well, I'm pretty patient. I can wait until your work is done for a proper greeting." She challenged back.

Snape narrowed his eyes as if he was surprised she dared to cross him. He didn't say another word but continued to help the Healer.

Hermione turned to set up the bed. Ms. Trammell was muttering something to Snape, handing him another list of potions to brew. Hermione was so distracted from meeting Snape that her next muscle spasm caught her by surprise.

She yelped out loud and her legs gave out. She tried to break her fall by aiming for the bed. Hermione's upper body landed on the soft mattress, but her knees took the brunt of the fall on the cold stone floor. The room was spinning around her, but she could faintly hear voices surround her.

The next thing she knew she was on the bed she made up, drinking a pain relieving potion while Trammell rubbed ointment on her knees. If Trammell was the one with the ointment, who was…

"Severus," she whispered, now recognizing the young man holding her head back and helping her with the potion.

He jumped back as if he was burned, but quickly recovered. "Well, at least your memory is still intact. You haven't completely lost your marbles," he said sardonically. "Do you have a bad case of vertigo?"

She shook her head and immediately regretted it. "No. It's just been an extremely long day…"

Snape looked at her skeptically. "Right." He turned to the mediwitch. "If that is all, m'am, I shall be on my way."

The mediwitch bid him farewell. He ignored Hermione and behaved like she was never there, which bothered her slightly.

"Is he usually that cold, Ms. Trammell?" she asked as she watched the young Snape leave the infirmary.

Trammell grabbed the empty glass and ointment jar. "Severus? No, he's actually quite the helper. Respectful and polite, usually. Brilliant young man. I expect him to do great things after he leaves here. I do believe he does have a problem with trusting strangers, however. Perhaps if you get to know him better, he'll turn around."

Hermione collapsed on her pillow. "I do hope you are right," she muttered.

"What's that, dear?" Trammell asked.

"Oh, nothing, M'am."

The Healer began turning down the torchlight. "I will let you get sleep then. I hope your dizzy spells and headaches are all clear by tomorrow. You have a full days worth of classes. Best get your rest now."

Hermione couldn't argue with the woman. Going back decades of time really does strain a person, and make them feel as if they haven't slept for the amount of time they travelled.

_Here's to my next five months. May it not be a complete disaster. _She thought as she drifted off to sleep.


	7. The Snape Progress

_A/N: Finals are done. Christmas is around the corner. I'm working like a dog. But I'm using my free time to sing and to write. Life is good._

* * *

**CHAPTER 7: THE SNAPE PROGRESS**

_1998_

McGonagall was completely swarmed with extra work now that her favorite student disappeared. Stressed with the added pressures of the Ministry, and he own concern for the young woman, she exhaled and took off her spectacles, hoping that massaging her face would rid the tension that permanently resided in her muscles.

The Ministry was mad. There was no way Hermione Granger, recipient of the Order of Merlin: First Class, could ever be capable of casting an Unforgivable Curse, not to mention stealing such a dangerous yet invaluable project.

Then again, the war surely took a toll on everyone. And as Dumbledore always said, there was a little Darkness in everyone. However, the intent to act on it was a person's decision.

There was a sharp rapt on her door. "Come in!" she called out.

Harry and Ron rushed in frantically. "Headmistress," Harry panted, "Please don't tell me the Ministry has contacted you."

She folded her hands together. "I'm afraid they have, Potter. And the news they bring me is grave. Have you heard anything from Miss Granger?"

Ron slowly approached her desk with the letter in his hand. "This note pretty much confirms the worst, Headmistress. She's all but said she's guilty."

McGonagall quickly put her glasses back on and read over the letter a few times, denying that Hermione could do something so drastic. "Oh dear. She really has done it then." Her brow furrowed. " 'He didn't have to die?' Who is she referring to?"

The older woman looked at the boys, particularly Ronald, who currently was clenching his jaw and staring venomously at the walls covered in portraits. "Just guess, Professor," he snapped.

She quickly turned her head to see if Severus was in his portrait. Naturally, he was not to be seen. But McGonagall could not deny that was probably the person Hermione was risking her future for.

"I don't understand. I know she was quite upset when he wasn't exonerated. But if she gave the world more time…"

"Let's face it, Headmistress. Hermione after the war is not the Hermione we all knew. Perhaps it's a good thing she called off the engagement. I would have been destined for a marriage where my wife would be devoted to efforts of another man who wasn't her husband. What kind of matrimony would that be?"

Ron's hands were clenched into fists, trying to keep himself under control while McGonagall rushed over to console him. "I'm sorry you have to go through this, Ron. But you make a fair assessment. Hermione obviously needs to sort through her own issues. It wouldn't be fair to you if you said your vows fully and she made a half hearted attempt at hers." She rubbed his back soothingly. "It's all for the best, Mr. Weasley."

He pulled away. Her efforts of comfort were accepted, but his vicious gaze returned to the wall behind her. "It always comes back to Snape, though."

Harry, behind Ron, was starting to understand the severity of what Hermione just did. "She could undo everything, couldn't she, Professor."

For a moment, a flicker of fear passed through the older witch's eyes. "Let us hope, Potter, that it doesn't come down to a phenomenal paradox of our world."

Harry shook his head. "How could she do something so…so…selfish? This is the most irrational thing she's ever done! She was in the front lines. She knew everything that we had to do to bring down Voldemort. And she is just going risk everything to 'rescue' Snape? He was noble, I understand, and he paid the price for his choices, and he died for the Cause. It couldn't have been more of an honorable way to die."

"But no one believes that, save you and me, mate," Ronald whispered dejectedly. "If only we helped her exonerate him earlier…"

"This is not your fault, Weasley," McGonagall retorted. "We all know Hermione to be hard headed and determined to succeed at everything she put forth effort into. Although it's frightening to think about, we have to trust her reasoning and her plans."

Harry sighed. "And how are we to know what she's planning on doing, Professor? The only thing we know so far is that she's at Hogwarts in 1977."

McGonagall sat back down behind her desk and grabbed clean parchment and a quill. "Well, I was already into my teaching career back then. Obviously, my past memories will change as soon as I meet Miss Granger. We can possibly keep track of her that way. And maybe contact other students who may have…_will_ run into her then as well." She sighed. "These next few months are going to be very complicated, Potter."

Harry swallowed. "And what's going to happen when she returns, Professor?"

The fear passed through her eyes once more, but they didn't leave as she said the inevitable. "If the damage she does is not severe, Potter, she still may never see the light of day again." The silence in the room was deafening. "Boys, I suggest we strive to live our day to day lives as normally as possible. The Ministry has promised to keep the investigation in the dark until she returns. Until then, we have to stay strong."

Ron sighed. "Of course. But, if you do hear anything new, let us know. I'm sure Harry will hear enough, but just in case…" his voice faded.

McGonagall nodded and then politely dismissed the young men from her office. The peacefulness of her office allowed her to rack her memory to see if any glimpse of Hermione was present. Still, no sign of the past seemed to be altered. She exhaled exasperatedly. Harry was right. This was the most selfish thing she could do.

All of the sudden, McGonagall felt like her head was going to explode with pain. It was so unexpected she gasped out loud. "Merlin's beard! What is going on here?"

"I think," she heard a dark voice coming from the usual empty portrait, "That you have finally met the infamous Hermione Granger."

The pain was so intense McGonagall was tempted to upset her stomach. "Severus? Are you quite sure?" She managed to open her eyes whist the sharp daggers of her headache continued to havoc her head. Hatred was written throughout his countenance.

"Of course. I may be a portrait, a shadow of my former self, but I'd still remember if a selfish, irrational Gryffindor suddenly appeared in the middle of my last year of school with no explanation," he spat.

Suddenly, the Headmistress's mind was altering her memories of the past. A vision of a young new Gryffindor in her classes traced her mind. She shook her head and that helped settle the images.

Still, if all the memories would result in that much effort to retrieve, McGonagall thought she could never survive the next few months. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Granger," she whispered, lowering her head into her hands.

* * *

_1977_

Despite having full experience of taking classes, Hermione couldn't help the apprehensive feelings that took over her stance. Luckily at breakfast, she was enthusiastically, albeit unattractively distracted by Potter and Black participating in an eating contest. But as she walked down the familiar corridors to her lessons, a part of her tried to reason how the classes couldn't be any different than the ones she took in her own career at Hogwarts.

Her first lesson was Advanced Transfiguration. Hermione quickly made her way to an available desk toward the back of the classroom. She didn't want to be the center of attention, but it was obvious the professor would notice that she was a new student. Perhaps Dumbledore already mentioned it to the teachers that she would only continue classes and not require any special attention.

Hermione was frantic in getting her books and parchment ready for the lesson. Lily luckily was trying to ease her mind, telling her that the Transfiguration curriculum was standard for anyone their age. After dropping her quills for the fourth time, Hermione heard the door of the classroom shut and the entire class grew quiet.

Hermione straightened in her seat, exhaling. It wouldn't do well for her performance if she was nervous. However, all her anxiety disappeared when her eyes saw the professor in the room.

Minerva McGonagall, a familiar face. Yet, so surprisingly young. Her hair was as stark black as her former Potions Master, with the exception of having a silky shine to it and a few sparce gray hairs entreating under her pointed hat. Hermione noted as well that the woman in front of her still had some youthful vibrance, yet the terseness Hermione associated Professor McGonagall with was just starting to prevail in her teaching style.

"Good morning, class," McGonagall began, "We will be continuing our discussion about partial human transfiguration." McGonagall adjusted her glasses on her nose, setting up her magical projector on the front blackboard. She then made her way to her desk to take attention. That was when she noticed Hermione.

"Ah. Of course. Everyone, we have a new student amongst us. Miss Hermione Granger, is it?"

Hermione swallowed nervously, already feeling the pangs of a new headache threatening to consume her. "Yes, Professor."

McGonagall approached her desk. "Do stand up and address the class. We would like to know more about you."

Reluctantly, Hermione stood as asked. She was wringing her hands together in a nervous hand gesture. "Well…my parents are ambassadors, and for the past six years I've been a student at Beauxbaton. However, my French is miserable, so I pretty much learned everything through private tutors. I do hope I'm not too far behind."

"Oh, you'll be just fine, Miss Granger. Dumbledore had much to say about your studies." McGonagall placed a roll of parchment on her desk. "But just to be sure, here is a little test to see how much you know about the subject. You'll note that the rest of your professors are following suit. It will help us place you in your studies here for the next few months."

McGonagall resumed her lecture while Hermione adjusted her seat to begin taking her placement exam. Hermione was happily aware that she was not behind in her studies. In fact, the curriculum must have changed within 20 years to include more information, because Hermione covered the majority of the material in her previous years at Hogwarts.

At the end of the lesson, Hermione remained behind to have McGonagall correct her exam. The professor was impressed at the timeliness of the student. For all the material on the test, she didn't expect Hermione to complete it in such short time. She was furthermore impressed with the marks the young lady earned on the exam.

"My, my, Miss Granger. Your tutors sure kept you on your toes. Very impressive." McGonagall put the exam away. "How about some practical transfiguration? Please turn this pin cushion into a parrot." Hermione did as she asked, and the parrot appeared, squawking annoyingly.

"How wonderful, Miss Granger! Clearly, you are just fine in this class. It is quite possible you are weeks ahead of us already. Do tell me who your tutors were. I must write them!"

Hermione stammered. "Well, they…" but luck was on her side once more, because as she began to stutter, the next Transfiguration class filed into the room, loudly and boisterously. Hermione noted the Mauraders were clearly not up to standards when it came to Transfiguration. If so, they would have been in the Advanced section of the course.

McGonagall stood up to maintain control of the class while Hermione snuck out. In the hallway, she leaned against the corridor wall, exhaling. That was a close call with McGonagall. She checked her watch and cursed inwardly. She was already late to her next class.

She bursted through the door almost ten minutes late, startling the Ancient Runes teacher, Professor Babbling. Hermione used the "I got lost—I'm a new student" excuse, which the professor accepted as legitimate. Hermione was still catching her breath by the time she made her way to an empty desk, so she never noticed that the desk she chose just so happened to be diagonal from one Severus Snape.

After having been interrupted, the class quickly resumed its prior status of being engrossed in the material presented to them. Hermione, like in her Transfiguration class, was presented with a placement exam. She was to translate a list of runes.

This exam was more difficult than her transfiguration one, and not just because of the material. Throughout the duration of the class, Hermione swore she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle, as if someone was watching her.

About forty minutes into the exam, she had enough of that prickle and had to see where the source was from. With a quick turn in her chair, her brown eyes once again met the dark gaze of Snape.

Hermione caught herself before she got lost in those beautiful endless orbs. And finally, she mustered a similar challenging glare that he sent her. They must have been engrossed in the silent battle for too long, for the professor suddenly called out to the both of them.

"Mr. Snape. Miss Granger. Is there a problem you wish to discuss with me?"

Hermione snapped back forward facing the professor. "No, professor," she whispered.

Professor Babbling approached the two of them in the back of the classroom. "Cheating will not be tolerated in my classroom. Now, Miss Granger, this is only a placement exam, so it will not count against you. Answer what you know. Mr. Snape," she turned to face the Slytherin, "Mind your own work, and do not disrupt other students."

Snape slouched further into his desk. "Yes, professor," he grumbled.

For the rest of the class, Hermione managed to finish the test, but she had to restrain herself from snapping back at the boy, for she continued to feel that uncomfortable prickle on the back of her neck. She was grateful when she heard the chimes sound the end of the class period. She continued to sit in her desk while the students filed out of the classroom.

Evidently, Snape wanted to do the same thing, but gave up when he saw she wasn't leaving. Instead, he brushed past her, purposely bumping into her arm with a little excessive force. He never looked directly at her, and as Hermione watched him leave the classroom, she couldn't help notice that young Snape, in so many ways, exemplified her future potions teacher, from the way he walked to the way he held himself in public.

_Especially_ in the way he walked. It was almost as intimidating. He must have perfected it since his school days. The only thing it lacked was the billowing robes.

Her exam was corrected, and although her marks were not as exceptional as her transfiguration ones, Professor Babblings still regarded her as qualified for that present Runes class.

The rest of her classes the rest of the week were of the same pattern. Placement testing, praise from the professors, and an extra weight lifted off her shoulders. A few of the teachers were interested in her future career path, offering any extra help to get Hermione one step closer to her goals in life.

When she returned to the girls' dormitory, she sat down on her bed and frowned. It wouldn't matter as to what her "future plans" entailed. There was no future for her when she returned home. Only if you counted a cell in Azkaban as a step ahead of the rest.

She read over her course listings once more and sighed. Of course. One class left and it had to be Advanced Potions. She was sure Snape would be there, and by the impression she saw from him in Ancient Runes, she was already far behind in her plans to get to know him.

Still, Hermione was there for that specific purpose: Snape. And she'd be damned if she didn't put in her best efforts to get his attention. Truth be told, even if they weren't friends yet, she at least knew he noticed her, which was a start.

Not many students must have passed their OWLS in potions. As Hermione entered the familiar potions classroom, she was one of eleven total students taking the course. Lily, Lupin, and herself represented Gryffindor. There were two Hufflepuffs, three Ravenclaws, and three Slytherin.

Hermione was feeling anxious once more. It was obvious that everyone in the class was already assigned a separate work station and team, and she would be the odd student out. Lily offered to pull up another chair to share hers and Lupin's as a temporary fix, so Hermione settled herself at the edge of the lab table.

She was surprised to see that Snape was not one of the Slytherins represented. Surprised, and also, a little put off.

Slughorn, with his jovial attitude, entered the classroom with enthusiasm. "Good afternoon class! I hope you all have had some time to continue research with your projects." He approached the blackboard and began outlining the lesson for the day. "Now, I've read over your theses and I'm much looking forward to what some of you can achieve with your research of enhancing these medicinal elixirs." He faced the class once more. "Ah! Miss Granger, may I presume? You are already the talk of the teachers' lounge, you are!"

Hermione shyly smiled and nodded, not expecting such a reaction from Slughorn. He beamed at her. "Yes, well now the pressure is on for you! I'm only expecting the best from you." He looked at their crowded work station. "Hmmm. This will not do. I'm afraid everyone has already been partnered up." He searched around the classroom. "Temporarily, Miss Granger, take the station in the back of the classroom. One of my advanced students usual has that station to himself, but I'm sure he can offer you a little room for your placement brews."

_Three guesses who that station usually belonged to_, Hermione thought. Still, she was conflicted. Should she be overjoyed that Snape was going to be there in the same classroom as her like an equal, or should she be compelled to run as far away from that situation as possible? She wished she could opt for the latter, for Lily's sympathetic gaze was her confirmation that Snape definitely would be sharing his space with her. And judging from the way he behaved in Runes, he would be less than enthusiastic at the arrangement.

As the class resumed, the rest of the students continued to research and experiment on their projects. Hermione was getting her cauldron set up, reading over the potions Slughorn assigned for her as a placement test.

"Now, some of these seem slightly behind what we are currently doing. We brewed them last year as a part of the curriculum. But do what you can and we will go from there. If you need anything, just ask Mr. Snape when he returns from the Hospital Wing. I swear, our Mediwitch would sooner have him chained to the walls of the Infirmary to brew potions than to complete his seventh year!" Slughorn instructed and chuckled before returning to his desk.

Looking over the list, Hermione once again noticed that the curriculum in the past 20 years was further behind what it currently was. She brewed most of the potions right before O.W.L.S. She exhaled happily. She wasn't going to be too far behind in any of her classes.

She was slicing her shrivel fig when she felt that familiar tingle behind her neck, and that tingle was followed by an enthusiastic slamming of books on the stone floor, and a loud scraping of the metal stool next to her.

She stopped her movements and set down the knife to brush the hair out of her eyes. She could tell the boy standing next to her was not happy with the new arrangement, but it wasn't like she had any control of the situation.

Turning her head only confirmed her suspicion. Severus Snape, in his youthful appearance of 17, was maliciously glaring at Hermione Granger.

"Care to tell me why you are occupying my work station?" he spat venomously.

Even though Hermione kept her cool for their first two meetings, she felt threatened this time around. Perhaps it was because she was in the dungeon, where she would meet him in 14 or 15 years, or the close proximity was overbearing. Either way, her response was weak.

"I'm sorry. All the other stations are full, and well, Professor Slughorn told me to move back here. I won't be long, I promise."

Snape exhaled exasperatedly and shook his head. He then approached the professor's desk, obviously stating his complaints about the new student interfering with his work. Severus, however, returned with no improvement to the situation.

He turned toward Hermione. "If you even disturb me for one second, Granger, I'll make sure you are sent back to remedial potions," and with that he began working.

Hermione continued her assignment, constantly looking over her shoulder to observe Snape. Both out of curiosity for him, and for his work.

Once her work was completed, she had to let her concoction brew for 20 minutes. Not thinking she had enough time to start any other projects, she began cleaning up her area of the work table, all the while stealing glances at Snape. With his intense focus on his work, he was a lot more relaxed, and Hermione smiled at the fact.

One thing that she was having a hard time accepting was this new version of Snape, or rather, this "previous" version. She acknowledged once more that this Snape was a predecessor of the man she would eventually meet. But she noticed how his bone structure, so precise and strong along his jaw, was in a way appealing to the eye. His features, although not handsome in the traditional sense, was almost aristocratic. And the way he held himself, it suited him just fine. It demanded respect just like in the artistic fashion he commanded a classroom.

His face did not reveal any sign of damage or horror that she was aware of. Hermione understood from what Harry said, Snape's life at home was less than loving, but one could have easily missed that. He hid his troubles very well. The age lines and tension in his face were nonexistent. His nose, although still abnormally large, was set straight. He must have ended up breaking it later on in his life.

Severus Snape, to Hermione, was simply…_young._

Hermione was drawn out of her reverie at the sound of Snape slamming down his knife. "You know, you could take a bloody picture," obviously alluding to the common Muggle retort.

Hermione was startled and jumped back slightly. "Sorry," she feebly whispered.

Snape shook his head, but his attention was drawn to her cauldron, and he furrowed his brow. Hermione inwardly smirked. She knew for a fact her potion was turning out perfectly. Judging by Snape's reaction, he knew it too.

When they made eye contact again, Hermione noted that his expression, although usually cold and distant, softened a bit. It didn't hold as much disdain as before. Perhaps he was impressed with her potion making skills.

Hermione then studied the contents of his cauldron from afar. Puffer fish eyes and Belladonna strewed his area of the table "Veritaserum?" She asked politely.

Once again, he was surprised. "Yes…well, it has to brew for a few more weeks. But I'm surprised you knew."

Hermione shrugged. "The ingredients gave it away."

"Of course," he said, still behaving as if he was skeptical of her knowledge of potions.

Not knowing how to continue the conversation, Hermione left Snape to his work. Slughorn eventually approached her cauldron and praised her results.

"Why, Miss Granger. This just might be the best Confunding Elixir I have ever seen brewed in the shortest amount of time! Well done! How about next class we'll have you brew a more complicated potion, and from there we'll squeeze you into our research projects."

She smiled proudly. For some reason, his praise in front of Snape seemed even more worth it. As she cleared the contents of the cauldron, she laughed out loud, reminiscing the fiasco in her sixth year, where Harry turned out to be the star pupil of their Potions Class.

"What, may I ask, is so humoring to you, Granger?" Snape interrupted her thoughts.

She smiled. "Your curiosity, Snape," she responded, still amused.

He was put off by her blatant disregard of answering his question. "If you don't mind, some people are actually trying to work and advance our futures. Go back with your Gryffindor compatriots and give me back my space."

She didn't was to destroy all the "Snape" progress she made that class period, so she returned to the table with Remus and Lily, just as he requested. But as she sat back down, she frowned. If she was going to take baby steps when dealing with Snape, by the time she had to go back to the present time, she would have barely spent any time getting to know him. She could tell Snape didn't trust people too easily.

Hermione raised her hand within the last five minutes of class. "Professor, I was wondering whether I could stay after class to brew the rest of the potions on the list. I don't want to get too far behind."

Slughorn pondered her request and saw her point. "That is not a bad idea, Miss Granger. I would enjoy seeing your work in action. Monitor your technique and such. Yes, do stay after class."

Hermione straightened up, excited for more than one reason. Especially as she heard the almost inaudible groan coming behind her from the Slytherin. She could barely suppress her grin at the sound. Her assumptions were correct that Snape would continue his independent research after this current class period.

Hermione bid farewell to Lily and Remus and quickly set up her cauldron once more, only this time it wasn't at Snape's work station. Her Draught of the Living Death would be more complicated than the Confunding Concoction she just finished preparing. Slughorn left the classroom for a spell when she began to work with the ingredients.

Quickly, she noticed Snape was no longer at his work station, because she felt his intense scrutiny as she began working with the pods. It was not unlike the way he used to observe her brewing when she was in his classroom. It did not make her any less nervous.

She never looked up at him. She didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing that he, in one way or another, intimidated her. But her hands betrayed her, and the knife missed the bean she was trying to slice.

"No, no, no, Granger. Don't try to cut the bean. Crush it with your blade like this," he gently took of the knife from her grasp, demonstrating. "It will release the juices better."

To say that Hermione was surprised at his helpful nature would have been an understatement. He continued to crush the bean pods while she finally turned her head to look at him, complete awestricken at his…politeness and…patience.

"Thanks," she quietly managed to respond after the initial shock wore off. She went back to the instructions list to continue the next step. "So, the next step would be…"

Snape snorted quietly and motioned for her to slide over to make more room for him at the station. "Here, I'll assist you. I do enjoy brewing this potion, and pretty much have it memorized. This is the potion I altered last year for the class project. You saw them working on the research today." She could see the pure joy in his eyes as he began helping her brew.

She remembered again how Harry managed to brew the best Draught of the Living Death, how it was near perfection, and her admiration for Snape escalated further. "You were absolutely brilliant with this potion, Snape. Truly, you're a genius."

He abruptly stopped his slicing. "I haven't mentioned anything about the alterations to you, Granger."

_Bollocks! _"Oh…well…just from what I've seen so far. The crushing instead of the slicing. And just by…observing you in the last lesson. You turn brewing into an art form."

It didn't seem like he bought her poor cover. And then Hermione made the mistake of making direct eye contact with Snape. His eyes, so dark, so enticing, were not wavering. She knew she could get lost in them. But then she felt a prodding into the back of her mind, as if an outside force was trying to break in.

She quickly broke the eye contact and shook her head. She knew exactly what he was up to. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't try breaking into my thoughts again, Snape." She snapped, returning back to the potion.

The once pleasant work area was tense once more. "Well, who better to practice my Legilimency skills on than a pathological liar?"

"Here's a new tactic for you. Mind your own business! Hasn't butting into other people's affairs hurt you enough before? Learn from your mistakes!"

Snape stiffened, obviously insulted by her retort. "That's what you will get by only hearing one side of the story, Granger. You know _nothing_. Nothing about me. Nothing about my past, and _surely _nothing valid or of truth if you consort with Gryffindors."

Hermione brushed the hair out of her face with the back of her hand. "Though I'm sure they would _love_ to tell me entertaining stories of your failures here, they are not my sources."

She resumed her chopping as Snape glared down at her. "I don't believe you for a moment, Granger. But I assure you, one day I will figure you out. And I will use any means necessary to do so."

Snape already knew how to play the game of intimidation. He let his threat hang heavy in the air, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction that he had an influence on her.

Of course, even with the little time she spent with him, Hermione knew Snape was already getting to her. She just was unsure in what ways.

_That's the second fact in less than two hours I'm unsure of. Get. A. Grip, Granger!_ She cursed inwardly.

The rest of the lesson was a blur. Because of her nasty verbal attack, Snape returned to his own cauldron, ignoring the Gryffindor for the rest of the session. Slughorn returned and mostly focused on what Severus was doing with his work. Hermione was grateful. Even though her potion was less than exceptional, perhaps mediocre of sorts, she accepted it, because she wanted nothing more than to be in a different room, away from Snape.

He definitely had the upper hand on her. If she was to protect her identity, Hermione had no other choice but to rush to the library as soon as the potion was completed, bottled, and turned in. Snape's Legilimency skills were only going to improve as the weeks went on, and her guard was only going to soften when it came to him.

It was as good of a time as any to start learning Occlumency.


	8. Late Night Excursions

_A/N: I was initially planning on making chapter 8 an extremely long chapter, but I divided it up. The next half will be up in a few hours. Let me know what you think! I love the alerts I get in my inbox. :)_

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**CHAPTER 8: LATE NIGHT EXCURSIONS**

As October turned into November, Hermione was disappointed with the lack of progress she was making with Snape. Even though her classes were not as difficult as the ones she was taking in the present time, the homework still took away a lot of her free time. And when she wasn't working on essays, she was spending her time reading up on Occlumency and blocking her mind from Snape's attempts of Legilimency practice sessions. She had to prepare for their next encounter. Whenever that would be.

She was grateful for the large amounts of work to be done. It kept her mind off things, mostly her old life. Despite a full common room and classes full of students, she still felt incredibly lonely. She longed for the familiar scent of Ron's shirt as she cuddled close in his arms. He was always so gentle, and he learned to be sympathetic and patient…

That's what she needed. Someone she could talk to, who would listen intently, and that wouldn't judge her for her…indiscretions. She was tired of pretending who she really was, lying about every tiny event that occurred in her life. It was getting to the point she wasn't sure what the truth was.

The everyday schedule for Hermione was as followed. She woke up, attended breakfast with Lily and Remus (although she noticed the increased frequency James Potter was sitting with them at meals). After that she went to her scheduled classes. And when those were completed and food was consumed, she usually relaxed in the confines of the library or the common room.

But at night, when the common room emptied out and the fire flickered weakly in the grate, the silence to Hermione was painful. Or maybe it was the loneliness. She couldn't decide which. When it became unbearable, she casted a quick Disillusionment Charm on herself and walked around the corridors of the castle.

For some reason, these long walks comforted her. Besides the few couples that took advantage of the unoccupied classrooms and the teachers that were scheduled for patrolling the castle, there were no unwelcome intruders. She found herself a windowsill to sit down upon and gazed out the window. And then she would cry until she felt she couldn't expel anymore emotions, and made her way back to her warm bed in the dormitory.

She made her way to her favorite window in and made herself comfortable, wrapping her dressing robe closer around her body. The stone walls were quite chilly in the middle of the night. After settling in the corner of the sill, she sighed, relishing this silence, as opposed to the one in the common room.

However, the silence was short lived. She could hear frantic whispering coming from around the corner of the corridor. Hermione furrowed her brow. It didn't sound like the typical late night pair, rushing back to their common rooms. It sounded more like a group of students prowling about.

Making sure the disillusionment charm was still intact, Hermione got up from the sill, wanting to know the source of the voices. As she inched closer to the edge of the hallway, she stopped to eaves drop on the unknown group. But the conversation they were having was one that made Hermione wish she could control her curiosity.

"Of course we can trust Lestrange. He and his wife are right in his Inner Circle. He wouldn't set us up. This…agenda…is something he firmly believes in. You realize that the Ministry held Rodolphus in contempt for not assisting those..._muggles,_ during that flood last summer? After all the emphasis on Magical Secrecy, when it came to saving his own life, those damn Mudblood lovers in office would have rather seen him die than to ignore weak, inferior muggles!" a man frantically whispered.

"Besides," another whispered, "I hear the Ministry is out to actually _inquire _Pureblood families to see how they have acquired their wealth. Like we robbed those traitors in office of anything! If that's not playing favorites to lower class citizens, I don't know what is. Mark my words, Macmillan, your family could be next!"

"Agreed, Macnair. It is those dirty inferior beings that are the thieves! They want our magic! And those mudbloods have figured out a way to steal our power. There can't be any other explanation for how they have succeeded in this world."

"Muggles are envious of our powers. Why else has the secrecy statute been enforced for so long?"

A smaller, less confident voice mumbled an incoherent response. Immediately, there seemed to be a small scuffle going on from the other side of the corridor. Hermione didn't have enough will to witness the fight. She was frozen in fright, not being able to ignore the situation and move away from the group of Slytherins.

"Don't do anything drastic, Macnair. We don't want this pinned on us," Snape's rational voice surfaced over the rustling. She finally heard a crunch, assuming a punch was thrown and she heard the smaller voice whimper.

"That is just a taste of what's to come if you bail out on us again," the voice that Hermione recognized as Macnair threatened to the unknown boy.

She heard the group of students, _Snape's friends,_ continue down the hallway, leaving the injured boy sniffling and whimpering in fright. Hermione debated in her head whether she should leave and pretend the situation never happened, or if she should help the less fortunate child.

Hermione cursed inwardly as she removed the Disillusionment Charm and turned the corner towards the injured student. Damn Gryffindor sensibilities.

"Are you alright?" she asked the cowering boy.

Obviously not being used to kind voices, he jumped at the compassion Hermione offered to him. "I…I don't like those boys," he whispered.

She studied the young boy. He couldn't be older than 12. Blood was oozing from his nose and some of it stained the front of his dressing robe with crimson. From the other colors on his robe, he was in Hufflepuff.

She crouched down and vanished the blood from his clothes. "You're far from your common room. Would you want me to walk you back?"

"That won't be necessary, Granger," Snape's voice called out. He emerged from the corridor, thankfully alone. However, he still looked angry.

But instead of addressing Hermione like she expected, he crouched down next to the boy as well. His wand was pointed at his nose. "This will only hurt for a moment, Macmillan." And he reset the broken appendage on the boy's face, nothing but concentration on his face. Hermione could not read his emotions. It was a sturdy fortress that inhibited her from reading his expression completely.

Snape was blatantly ignoring Hermione's presence. "Stop crying and run back to your common room, Macmillan. The boys are coming back out and they'll attack you worse if they find that you're still here, Pureblood or not. And don't you dare mutter this incident to anyone. Never cross Macnair or Avery again. They'll hurt you worse next time."

Hermione watched the boy quickly dust off his robes and run down the opposite corridor. When she turned back around, Snape was glaring at her with contempt.

"Before the rest of them return, tell me, Granger. How long have you been here?" he interrogated.

Hermione swallowed. "I…"

"Just as I suspected," Snape said while raising his wand. "You filthy eavesdropper. Couldn't just stick with your normal self-pittying episode? Had to put your nose into something that's none of your business?"

She stiffened. "You've been watching me? How _dare_ you! If I'm having trouble adjusting to a new school and a new environment, I should be able to cry in peace! It's not like I'm plotting something evil and dangerous like you and your gang of Death Eaters are. Getting innocent boys to do your bidding. How utterly pathetic. How_ cowardly!_"

Snape's eyes glittered with malice at her insult. She saw that his grip tightened on his wand. Snape snorted. "Innocent? Please. You know nothing about Macmillan or his family. Ancient Pureblood Hufflepuff families like his are, dare I say it, _loyal,_ if it benefits their status and their Gringotts accounts."

"He's a defenseless twelve year old boy, Snape."

"Who just so happened to be threatening blackmail on me for more than one incident like this one," Snape cut in. "Believe me, Granger, the boy is almost as cunning as a Slytherin. He aspires to become a politician, so he wants all the interaction with any popular or powerful figure here at the school. Numerous times he's mentioned turning my name in. And if he would do that I would lose my badge and title. Loyal Hufflepuff, indeed! That boy is only going to get himself killed."

She folded her arms. "That still doesn't explain why you were invading my privacy."

"Open corridors aren't ideal for private matters, you half-wit. Besides, I can't help it if I'm patrolling the corridors as a part of my Prefect duties, and you just so happen to be weeping like someone killed your puppy," he spat. "How _tragic_ your life must be, moving away from mummy and daddy because you can't speak French. Your life is so _difficult,_" Snape added with a touch of sarcasm.

The tip of Snape's wand twitched with fury. For a split second, she could see the anger in his eyes, most likely aimed for the ghosts of his past. His abusive father. His distant mother. Hermione's own anger dissipated, turning into sympathy. "Not difficult, Snape. Only…complicated."

Their eyes met. It seemed like this particular event, this intense eye contact, was happening at an increasingly frequent and unwelcoming rate. But for the first time ever, they understood each other.

She broke the contact and sighed. "What are you going to do to me, Severus Snape?" she whispered.

Snape slowly lowered his wand. "I am going to tell you to go back to your dormitory and trust that you are not going to breathe a word to anyone about tonight."

Hermione furrowed her brow. She was surprised she was going to get off that easy with Snape. "Why?"

He closed his eyes and lowered his wand, physical frustration in his features. "Because for some reason, Granger, and I still can't figure out why, even though I don't know anything about you, I don't see you as a threat. But that doesn't mean I trust you," he added with a thought.

She swallowed, her next few words barely coming out as a audible whisper. "I trust you, Snape."

A confused, unreadable expression passed over his face. "How…_Gryffindor_ of you." Suddenly, at the sound of footsteps echoing off the stone walls, Snape's wand was once again aimed at Hermione.

The four other Slytherins, Avery, Macnair, Crabbe and Goyle, staggered back to where the two of them were standing. "Oi, Snape. You pass along that message to Macmillan?" Avery called out. But the lot of them stopped at the sight of Hermione.

The one Hermione vaguely recognized as Macnair glared threatening at her. "Who's she, Snape?"

Snape's wand arm stiffened. "She's a nobody, Macnair. Just a nosy little nobody."

Goyle snorted and he was the first to approach Hermione. He was a hairs-length away from her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "She's that new girl from Belgium."

"She's not from Belgium, you oaf! She supposedly lived in France," Avery retorted, giving Hermione his most sinister smile. Slowly, he walked towards her, putting an arm on Severus so he would lower his wand. "But I don't believe a word of it. There isn't a trace of French culture in your entire being. Tell me, woman. What are you running from?"

Hermione shut her eyes. She felt a finger under her chin. "Tut tut. Shame that such a pretty little girl doesn't know when to mind her own business. Didn't you see what we can do when you do something you aren't supposed to do? But then again," his finger was now stroking her cheek, "You might be a little more fun to pick on."

"She didn't hear anything, Avery," Snape interjected.

Avery turned around with slight disappointment. "Oh? You know this because…"

"Because I was here before you were. And she was only here helping the boy. I might have developing Legilimency skills, but they were enough to read that she was nowhere near us when we had our…discussion with Macmillan."

Avery folded his arms. "So what the bloody hell is she doing in the corridors at this time of night?"

"Wallowing in self-pity." Snape made eye contact with Hermione and smirked. "Crying. Like a little school girl."

Hermione resented his attitude, but was smart enough to keep her mouth shut as the menacing Slytherins continued to eye her like prey. Avery turned his attention back on her. "Well then, Granger. Luck is on your side, and you should be gracious that your _Prince_ was here to rescue you." He chuckled at his pun, not knowing Hermione was familiar with Snape's nickname. "However, this is your fair warning. If you cross us again, we won't hesitate to shut you up. And we will use all means necessary." Avery gave her a rough shove to prove his point, and he motioned for the rest of the boys to follow him down the corridor.

Snape, although hesitant, followed as well, but not without looking back at Hermione, who quickly made her way down the opposite end of the corridor. As far away from the future Death Eaters as possible.


	9. Veritaserum

**CHAPTER 9: VERITASERUM**

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione's world continued to spiral. No sooner that she was sitting at the table with James, Sirius, Remus and Lily that an owl swarmed over her, dropping a letter into her lap. No one around her saw this as peculiar. But for Hermione, because she knew no one in this decade and had no family, the note almost made her scream. Luckily, she maintained her composure.

After reading the writing on the front, she swore her heart skipped a beat nervously. She could recognize that sharp yet neat scrawl since she received her first potions essay back in her first year.

With a shaky hand, she quickily broke the seal and read the contents. Snape could really take her by surprise.

_Granger._

_It's a Hogsmeade weekend. You aren't going. Instead, you will meet me on the seventh floor at exactly 1:00 in the afternoon across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy who is trying to teach trolls how to dance ballet._

_From there I will explain further. This is not a request. I will find you if I have to. And you will pay dearly if it comes down to that._

_S.T.S._

"Severus always signed his notes that way. I think it made him feel older and more mature."

Hermione jumped at Lily's voice and she quickly crumpled the note and stuck it in her robe pocket. The girl's green eyes were full of worry. "Hermione, be careful with him. I won't tell the boys what you're up to. They'll have a fit. But a part of me…well…I guess still cares for him, so I won't tell you he's all bad news. But trust me, he's getting closer to it."

Hermione reassured Lily. "I'll be alright, Lily. I'm not exactly sure what he wants. It's not like we make it a regular occurrence to have tea and crumpets." She sighed. "If you could cover for me, I'll owe you a huge favor."

Lily sighed and nodded. "Of course. Good luck…you might need it. And patience too."

Hermione nodded. "He's a stubborn arse, for sure. I wonder why he wants to meet in the Room of Requirement."

Lily motioned for Hermione to hand over the crumpled up note. "He's always had a "secret lab" set up there. I could never access it unless he was there. I must have not thought of the right room when I passed it alone. Anyways," she handed the note back to its owner, "He always wants to sound so tough. But in actuality, he's the most rational being I have ever known. Very short temper, though."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So I've learned."

Lily pursed her lips in contemplation. "I didn't think I told you about the Room of Requirement."

She straightened up. "Oh. The boys told me about it a few weeks ago. Or maybe it was someone else. I can't remember. But…yes. I've learned about it."

Lily shrugged. "Alright then. Well, Sev gave you pretty good instructions on where it is. Stay safe, alright? Dumbledore'll have my head if you die before you go back home."

Hermione laughed. "Just blame it on James. It would be something he would do."

As the rest of the older students made their way to the entrance of the castle, Hermione steered clear from the crowds to avoid the questions and invitations from her classmates. Instead, she spent the next few hours clearing her head before her meeting with Snape. He wouldn't be able to easily penetrate her mind now.

On her way to the Room of Requirement, Hermione reminisced to the last time she was in that magical room. The rushing images of flames from the Fiendfyre, practically licking their limbs as Harry flew his broomstick throughout the destructed room sent shivers up her spine. Hermione never understood how she survived that, along with every other challenged she faced that year.

She made it to the tapestry with a few minutes to spare. Snape was nowhere to be seen as of yet. Hermione assumed he would already be waiting for her in front of the doors. She nervously was pacing back and forth, hoping Snape wasn't up to something sinister with her.

She stopped her pacing and smirked. Snape wasn't one to be late. He probably was hiding somewhere. Hermione was going to surprise him, stoke his curiousity some more. Even though James and Sirius were rude overall when it dealt with Snape, they had a valid point in saying Snape was a nosy busybody. You couldn't ever get him to mind his own business.

She paced briskly back and forth in front of the vacant stone walls. "I need to see the place where Snape keeps working and hiding," she whispered outloud.

Like vines, the large voluminous doors eased in gracefully, replacing the stones. When Hermione reached for the door handle, she suddenly felt a strong grip on her right wrist.

"You need to learn how to control your curiosity, Granger." A deep voice spoke behind her.

"Says the boy who won't stop harassing me," Hermione snapped back, although she felt her wrist tingling under his touch.

Snape let go of Hermione, and replaced his hand on the small of her back, gently urging her to pace back and forth with him. "Clear your mind, and don't say a word."

To spite him, Hermione wanted to think things that would distort his private laboratories, but she didn't have the strength to. He surprised her yet again with his calm disposition and…kindness.

She could hear faint rustling behind the giant doors, a sign that the room was transferring into what he wanted. When the noise died down, Snape stepped away from Hermione and opened the door, ushering her inside the walls.

When the doors shut behind her and Snape, she gasped outloud. The room was a beautiful study and lab area, equipped with all the necessary items needed for research and brewing new potions. Hermione could tell Snape utilized this room to its fullest extent. Parchment of notes were scattered over the tables. Books from the shelves were on the small end tables beside the plush chairs. And a fire was crackling in the hearth.

"This is a fantastic laboratory, Snape," she exclaimed with full honesty.

Snape's lips gave the faintest sign of a smile. "Thank you. Although when I first discovered it, it was worse for wear. Most of the things in here are from my own investments."

Hermione's eyebrows were raised with high satisfaction and esteem. "Well done, Severus Snape. Very impressive."

He nodded, then urged her to follow him to the work station. "Come, let me show you what I've been brewing."

Hermione was truly interested in his work. Learning was a weakness for her, and she was not one to pass up the chance to be educated by Snape. Just like the old times. When she reached the cauldron, he lifted the protective charm and stirred the liquid inside, which was crystal clear. "Ah, perfect," he whispered.

The potion was colorless and odorless. Hermione swallowed nervously. She assumed it would be tasteless as well. Hermione looked over at Snape, and his dark eyes were glittering dangerously. "Sit down, Miss Hermione."

Her hands were getting clammy. "No thanks. I'm comfortable standing."

"Do as I say, Granger. I don't want to do anything rash." He was approaching her, and she was backing away from him slowly.

"And you won't have to. Just calm down." Her back hit the wall. She was cornered.

Snape raised his wand and from out of nowhere a stool slid from one of the tables and roughly settled underneath Hermione. He was dangerously close, pulling a vial of the clear liquid from inside his robes.

"Three drops is all I need to have you spilling everything I want to hear, Granger," he growled, the tip of his long nose almost touching hers. "You can make this easy, or you can make this difficult. The choice is yours. But I will have my answers."

Hermione whimpered. There was no way she could get out of this predicament. Snape wasn't an excellent Legillimens yet, but he still had enough of the skill to decipher the truth from the lies. She swallowed, watching the tiny glass vial shake menacingly in Snape's hand. His eyes had a look of triumph in it. He knew she was stuck.

Hermione sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright, Snape. You win. I promise I'll tell you the truth." _Maybe not the whole truth._ She stretched her arms to put them on his shoulder, trying to regain some of her personal space. "But I want to tell you when I'm lucid. Please don't force Veritaserum on me. It'll violate me."

Snape seemed to be considering her request. His powerful eyes narrowed, wondering if there was a catch to her promise. He couldn't seem to find anything wrong of the sorts, for he straightened up and pocketed the truth serum. "Mark my words, Granger. I'll know if you are lying." He ventured off toward the fire and sat himself down on one of the chairs in front of the fire.

Hermione exhaled in relief. She knew she could pull off not giving the entire truth, since what she was about to say wasn't a lie in any way. She got up off the stool on shaky legs and followed him to the study, but stopped when she saw a teapot sitting at the end of one of the tables.

"Shall we have some tea during this conversation? I think it will help the atmosphere," She suggested. Hermione took his grunt of a response as a yes, and tapped the kettle a few times. With steam coming out of the spout, she poured two cups. "One lump or two, Severus?"

He was startled at being called by his given name. "Oh. One is fine."

The cup was levitating towards him. "Cream?" She offered.

"Please." Snape responded calmly.

Instead of taking the chair opposite Snape, Hermione settled herself down on the threadbare carpet in front of the fire, crossing her legs and slowly sipping her tea. Snape gave her a strange questioning look and Hermione chuckled a little.

"I want to make this encounter as personal and comfortable as I can. Come, join me," she patted down on the soft rug.

Snape scoffed. "Do I look like a man who sits cross legged on the floor? I'm not here to humor you. Need I remind you that you are about to be interrogated by me?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Suit yourself."

A peaceful silence enveloped the both of them as they continued to sip their tea. Finally, Snape gave in and got up from his chair. He sat down across from her, keeping his posture just as straight as it was whenever he maintained a presence with strangers.

Hermione shook her head in amusement. She reached over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Snape. We are just going to talk." Once again, she caught Snape off guard and his eyes were bewildered, staring at the small hand on his being.

He seemed to have understood her, for after he summoned the pot of tea towards them and poured himself another cup, his posture was loose and finally he looked like a young man of seventeen. Hermione's face softened, enjoying the vision of her future potions master so casual. It almost made him personable, save for the fact he was about to intensely question her about her past.

"So…" Hermione broke the silence, not knowing where to begin.

"So." Snape repeated.

Hermione sighed. "Alright. A little disclaimer. I will tell you the general facts, and _only _the general facts. My situation is…sensitive, and I risk my life and freedom with every fact I divulge to any person. You will only know the basics. Understood?"

He glared at her. "Let me be the judge of that."

She took another sip of tea. "No. You will take what you get."

He scoffed. "Nevertheless, I'll eventually get everything out of you. It doesn't have to be today." He paused, trying to find an appropriate question to begin the interrogation. "The general facts, you say? Pray tell me, Granger, why are you here at Hogwarts? You aren't an ordinary transfer student."

Hermione began playing with the fibers of the carpet she sat upon, gathering her thoughts. "Do you want the long story, or the short?"

He huffed impatiently. "I want the truth. Deliver it in any means or length necessary."

She exhaled loudly. "The truth is, I'm on the run and Hogwarts is my temporary hideout."

You could hear a pin drop in that large room. That was the last thing Snape expected to hear, it was almost unbelievable to him. As if testing her, he reached and grabbed her wrist, finding her pulse points to detect whether her story was false. "I beg your pardon?"

Hermione shook her head at his unbelief "I'm a felon, Snape. You know, the government want to seek justice. Arrest me. Put me on trial. Sentence me to life in Azkaban, maybe even a kiss from the Dementors."

Obviously, her heart rate didn't waver, because even through his shock, he believed her. "I know what a felon is! What…what the bloody hell did you manage to do? Steal from a candy shoppe? You…you can't be capable of anything more serious than that!"

Hermione gave him a defeated look. "Apparently I am."

He let go of her wrists. "What did you do?" he asked again, the tone of his voice softened slightly.

She didn't answer immediately. Obviously, the guilt of her actions had caught up with her. "I…I used the Imperius Curse on a government official and used him to confiscate a highly confidential project from their vaults.

Snape's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "A Class A felony? An Unforgiveable? In broad daylight?"

"You don't need to tell me how stupid of me it was. I already know. It was a moment of weakness. An irrational decision on my part. Very unlike what I usually do," she snapped.

Snape straightened up and shook his head vigorously. "No! No! Well, of _course_ it was a poor decision to perform it where so many witnesses could pin point exactly what happened. But…well…"

Hermione noted the tone in his voice. It lacked all sense of dissatisfaction that she was used to hearing from him. Rather, it changed. Almost in the way he looked at her during the first potions class, after he learned that she was knowledgeable on the subject. The chastisement was replaced with something akin to admiration.

He sighed. "To be honest, Granger, my bias against your House was winning me over. I though you were just like all those other Gryffindors. All noble and outspoken against fighting for our magical rights. Muggle and mud…muggleborn lovers. But…you sure know your magic."

She raised an eyebrow. "What you mean is I know my Dark Arts." She shook her head. "I should have been smarter about it! Honestly! You're right. I was surrounded by people. I could have done it when no one expected it to happen. Or I could have done something else to get the…"

Snape was hanging on to her every word, trying to piece together more of the facts that she was withholding. Luckily, she caught herself just in time.

"Well," he broke the silence, "Why did you do it, then? You obviously regret your choices."

She looked up at the boy and their eyes connected. "I don't regret them," she whispered, "At least, not yet."

Hermione thought they both stopped breathing for a moment.

"How long will you be safe here?" Snape asked.

Hermione turned her head and faced the crackling fire. "I've given myself about four more months. They will have to have caught my trail by then."

A foreboding atmosphere settled around them, both thinking about the future she would face after her time expired at Hogwarts.

"Does anyone else know why you are here?" Snape's voice asked again. But for some reason, this question comforted her. It reminded her that she no longer was alone. She could trust Snape, just like she always could. His smooth, deep voice enveloped her like a blanket, and she smiled softly before her response.

"Dumbledore knows the partial truth. But we both know he's practically omniscient. I'm sure he knows what happened.

Snape rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Well, that's grand. Dumbledore knows? You'll be in Azkaban by Christmas. You can't trust him, Hermione. He's only out for his noble Gryffindors. Who cares about the rest of society as long as he gets his own agenda completed?"

She stiffened. "Dumbledore's a brilliant man. Don't talk about him that way! He'll be the first one to save your skin, and you'll be his prodigal son! He's the only person You-Know-Who fears, for Merlin's sake!"

"If Dumbledore is so brilliant, why is it that he's forbid any kind of education about the Dark Arts and Ancient Rituals to be taught at this school? Don't you think that the best way to defend ourselves against the evils around us is to tell us what we will be up against? Or is Dumbledore creating an ignorant society that he can control singlehandedly, with magic and powers beyond our comprehension?"

"Dumbledore doesn't want ancient dark magic taught to young students because of its temptation factor, you half-wit! You aren't even a Death Eater yet, and it has already enticed you to the point that everyone thinks you've gone bad!"

"Speaking from the witch who got caught casting an Unforgiveable!" Snape finally yelled.

The room fell silent. Snape did speak the truth, Hermione couldn't deny that. Why else did she threaten McPherson with her wand in the first place? Why did he fear her when the tip of her wand was in his face? Because common folk feared Dark Magic, feared vulnerability and danger, and powerful witches and wizards could bring that fear out by threatening harm. For a split second in that little office, Hermione remembered the rush of power she felt course through her veins when she saw the fear flicker in the poor man's eyes.

And when the Imperius was cast, she knew McPherson would bow to her every whim. It was an intoxicating sensation.

"Touché, Snape. But if we are being technical here, I didn't get caught. Obviously, I escaped." She motioned towards the room around her, her voice in control once more.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he smirked at her. "Touché yourself, Granger."

She stood up and picked up the empty tea cups, taking them back to the tea tray. Her back was facing Snape when he spoke up suddenly. "I can help you, you know."

Hermione turned her head, her eyebrows furrowed with questions. "Excuse me?"

Snape stood up as well and brought over the tea pot. "My friends were harassing you. And from the sounds of it, they aren't planning on stopping anytime soon. You will be their new conquest. If you want, I can tell them a…variation of what you told me. Perhaps, it will intimidate them enough to respect you. Or better yet, make them fear you."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, now that you mention it, my life would be a lot more enjoyable if I didn't have to wonder whether a gang of Slytherins were going to attack me at the next opportune moment." She smiled up at the dark haired boy. "Thanks, Snape."

He nodded. Hermione sighed. "Well, if that's all for now, I think I'm going to go back to my rooms. A lot of homework." She gathered her things, not wanting to make eye contact with him again, let alone decipher what his stance on her situation was, now that it was out in the open.

"Granger!" He called out as her hand reached the doorknob, but she still didn't turn around. "I know you haven't told me everything I want to know yet, but I know you'll eventually tell me. I'll force you to if you don't," he added as an afterthought.

Hermione snorted, and finally turned to face him, her eyes shining with slight humor. "You won't force me, Severus. You're too rational."

He frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Before leaving the room, she gave him a small smile. "Because you would have already done so if you weren't." And she bid him farewell, leaving him with a perplexed look on his youthful face.

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_A/N: I have no idea why these past two chapters took me so long to write out! It was exhausting. But I hope you all feel this is a start to a beautiful friendship. I think, though, we need to know what's going on in young Snape's mind..._

_Read, Review, and most of all, enjoy!_


	10. Granger Progress, Project Progress

_AN: I love not having to worry about writing school papers and studying for tests. But I'm distracted and conflicted with other things. I want to read a ton of things at the same time: fanfiction, the entire Harry Potter series (again, of course), and I recently acquired a Kobo e-reader, equipped with 100 classic novels I'm dying to read. But I also want to write this story. There really aren't enough hours in the day to write, read, work, and sing. I'll be editing my earlier chapters in the next few days, and the boyfriend is coming to see me, so another update may not be possible for about 2 weeks. Boo._

_But please let me know what you think of this chapter. I love everyone's feedback. I hope you all had a great new year! _

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**CHAPTER 10: THE GRANGER PROGRESS, THE PROJECT PROGRESS**

Severus was sullen. Not like he wasn't ordinarily, but moreso. And the more he thought about it, the more sullen he became. It wasn't his life he was particularly upset about. He'd accepted that his life wasn't going to be easy. He was born into suffering, and he would constantly have to prove himself to those who were born into luxury. Who said life was fair?

No, Severus was not sullen about his life. He accounted the added amounts of frustration to the knowledge that another person, another _girl_, had entered his life unexpectedly, and once again, he was faced with the problem of getting her out of his thoughts.

First, it was that dreadful Evans girl. But that was his fault. A boy of 8 or 9 could never understand the consequences of befriending a girl his age. He should have cut and run as soon as things got complicated, And yet, for years he continued to spend time with Lily, and frankly, he enjoyed it. But then they decided to go down separate paths. Lily's was a nobler path of struggle, especially with her blood status. Severus decided to take a more direct approach, which was to manipulate others with fear to gain power.

It was his approach to life that destroyed their precious friendship. And that same approach was beginning to destroy his life, Severus was starting to see. But just like his relationship with Lily, it was unsalvageable. Too late to turn around. He might as well take the best of the situation, and gain as much power and influence as he could before it could take him down completely.

He almost had himself convinced that he didn't need love to survive.

Severus was already of age. He would be eighteen in January. He was an adult, and could maturely accept that his feelings for Lily Evans ran deeper than a strong friendship. He knew he loved her then, on that fateful day in his 5th year when he willingly destroyed the only thing that had worth to him in his life. Perhaps then, he never realized it, or stubbornly denied what was real.

But, as an adult, he could admit he hadn't felt anything real since he was sixteen. That his heart was no longer functioning. That it was guarded, closed, and cold as ice.

Severus mused in his bed on top of the covers. The curtains around him were pulled closed, not wanting anything disturbing his thoughts, especially the other idiots he had to share his dormitory.

He sighed exasperatedly, thinking of what he had become in the past few years. Usually, he'd resolutely accept it with acute numbness. But since _she _showed up, something akin to a spark enveloped his curiosity, and he wasn't used to the sensation.

Severus wasn't used to anything but potions, experiments, and learning being his sole focus. That was one of his favorite distractions from his poor excuse of a life. But now, even as he researched, his thoughts turned to that Granger girl.

His keen intellect was intrigued by the girl. Perhaps it was because the girl possessed knowledge that was a fair equivalent to his own, at least to what he saw in Ancient Runes and Potions. Or maybe it was because she was the first girl since…since Lily, to pay him any mind. But nevertheless, there was nothing he could do to stop him from thinking about her.

It wasn't any particular feelings or emotions towards the girl that distracted him. It was a gut feeling, an intuition of sorts that told him the girl was more than what she held herself to be. And one of Severus's weaknesses was solving a problem. Solving a mystery that no one else seemed to notice. Being the first to discover the answers.

Hermione Granger to Severus Snape was just that. A mystery that needed to be solved. She was full of secrets and lies that desperately needed to be exposed.

But the chit of a girl unexpectedly surprised him. Severus thought he had the upper hand because he was the only one to see her for what she was: a compulsive liar. All he had to do was figure out what she was lying about.

For the first couple weeks after she arrived, Severus tried eavesdropping into her conversations with her Gryffindor "friends", but nothing stood out of the ordinary, save how careful she was at phrasing her sentences. That only spiked his curiosity more, especially when she stopped speaking mid-phrase. He knew she was up to something.

His work was slow, but if he was to succeed, his "Granger Progress", as he liked to call it, could not be rushed. Lucky for him, the girl seemed just as much intrigued by him as he was of her. Except she definitely made it more obvious. And then she admitted to him that she already trusted him. Hermione was going to make it too easy for Severus.

All he had to do was make himself approachable to her, almost convince her to befriend him. However, the way she constantly was looking at him, her chestnut brown eyes glittering at him, smiling of sorts, almost made him want to reach out to her as well.

He shook his head and grumbled, reaching his hands over his face to rub his eyes. He needed to keep his wits about him, which meant he could not let the girl get under his skin. Severus was already running out of ways to keep her out, though. Ignoring her didn't work, because it made her try harder to gain his attention. And threatening her did the same. It was as if the girl was convinced he was…well…he couldn't figure out what kind of images the girl envisioned about him.

Severus furrowed his brow. He was conflicted about her, especially after what she admitted this afternoon in his lab. On one hand, he didn't trust a hair on her head. He knew she wasn't lying about her being on the run from the Ministry of Magic, but that didn't mean she wasn't lying about everything else.

But on the other hand, Hermione Granger was, in a way, relatable to him. Severus wished he didn't run into her that night in the corridors, because he let it slip that he'd seen her countless times crying on the windowsill. He never meant to cross her path those nights when she thought she was alone, but his Prefect duties were met with that fate.

The first time he saw her on the sill, he was frozen with wonder. At that moment, he knew exactly how hopeless and alone she was feeling. Not because he had the experience of being in a new school so suddenly, but because the last time he opened up to someone completely was when he was friends with Lily Evans. And that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Loneliness was his companion since Lily left. Severus resisted the urge to sit down next to the crying girl that night, telling her that people, in the end, would only create disappointment. The only person you could rely on was yourself.

Severus groaned again. That statement was already negated. He never wanted to be in this situation, and he swore that no other woman would get to him. He had his lifetime's worth with Lily Evans. This new girl hasn't even been at Hogwarts longer than two months…

He weighed his options. He got enough information out of her to be able to blackmail her. He could manipulate her to do his every wish and bidding. He smirked, thinking of all the _wonderful _things he could make her do…make her perform.

A frown formed on Severus's face. That wouldn't do. He never wanted to be ruthless, like the majority of his friends were. They would lure unsuspecting women like Granger, convince them that their intentions were pure, have them practically begging to do their wishes, and then they would dispose of the used goods. No, he may not have a functioning heart, but he wasn't heartless.

Abuse and hatred wasn't new to Severus. He firsthandedly witnessed a more advanced stage of it since he could remember. His father was not a nice man. His mother, because of her husband, became despondent and apathetic about life. True, he knew she loved him, but nevertheless, if she put a toe out of line, the both of them would be mutilated by the drunkard. Eileen had to learn to keep her mouth shut, do as was asked, and her and her son would get the necessities of life.

Severus vowed to never turn into half the man old Tobias Snape was.

His thoughts then ventured to the memories of Granger in their classes. He was impressed by her knowledge of Ancient Runes. He himself was investing time into that class to help him gain ground in the medicinal field. He assumed Granger was following the same path, since her experience with potions seemed extensive as well.

She truly was a bright witch. This fact helped him steer his mind toward cooperation rather than manipulation. How could he even consider abusing the woman, his intellectual equal, when they could achieve wonders together through research?

Once the idea of forming an alliance with Granger to research new potions and techniques for medicines and science, he could not get it out of his head. She was capable of so much with him. They could be unstoppable.

_But I barely know this chit! How could I form an alliance with this girl? I can't go on assuming that I'll be powerful with her in my league! She has just as much potential of ruining me! _

This was a lie. Perhaps if Granger was the goody-two-shoes he originally believed her to be, there wouldn't be a chance in all of Hades that they could team together for research. She would become bewildered and untrustworthy, with the risk of having her turn him in. The average student attending Hogwarts would behave that way if they were in the room with his horrid disposition. In fact, the average student wouldn't willingly place themselves in the room with the Slytherin. But Granger barely flinched in front of him. True, he intimidated her, but she never purposely avoided or feared him.

She negotiated. She bargained. No one dared to try anything of the sorts when it came to him. It was like…she already knew him and his own tactics…where he stood on issues…

That was the first thing that bothered him about Hermione Granger. She somehow knew the logistics of how his mind worked. She knew too much. Unknowingly.

The second thing that bothered him was that the knowledge he learned about her today was only going to make him gravitate towards her more. Severus had no idea how the girl was sorted into Gryffindor. What she did was far beyond anything he expected her to do. Casting the Imperius Curse on a Ministry Official…it was a wonder that she escaped the premises so quickly! The ancient lore of this magic was beginning to be frowned upon by the higher-ups in the Ministry. Severus believed it was only their own desire to control the wizarding world that stemmed this attitude towards the misunderstood magic.

Granger was proof that sometimes you had no choice but to resort to more powerful techniques of conquest. Through his interaction with the girl, Severus knew she probably tried to negotiate with the official, and he did not grant her request. Whatever she wanted was out of desperation. People like him and her rarely attacked because of greed. (Well, perhaps their plans, determination, and goals were indirectly connected with greed.) Nevertheless, she wouldn't have resorted to such measures if the project she was after was an absolute certain necessity.

All-in-all, it was a sure sign that weak mongrels only respond to the threat and the fear of harm and control. Severus scoffed at the ministry official's naivety. These people, these men that the wizarding world have trusted to run the government fairly, can't manage to fight off the Imperius Curse. How weak. How pathetic.

How weak? How pathetic? Snape inwardly cursed. He was one to talk. He practically promised the girl that he would protect her from his friends. What urged him to do so was beyond his intellect. Even though the majority of the school tried their best to stay away from the Slytherin gang, Severus enjoyed their company for the most part…when it didn't deal with official business. It was enjoyable to banter about Quidditch and the latest designs of racing brooms, or the recent bout of Splattergroit in the Southern end of Scotland. But when it came to doing business with the lot of them, it was an exhausting process. They were, for the most part, conniving and sneaky. He would only allow those with personal and professional experience to work with his circle of friends. Perhaps as the months went on, he would allow Granger to interact with them on a personal, one-on-one basis. But for now, it was better to avoid the situation than to set her up for unnecessary danger.

A part of him believed that she would be alright if she was faced head on with his gang's anger. She was obviously stronger than that git in the Ministry. No, Granger was rational, aside from attacking people in broad daylight. And she openly admitted she thought he was rational as well. Merlin, the two of them were too much alike already. It was overwhelming.

It was also overwhelming the amount of unanswered questions that were left after she spoke of her past. Where was she from? Why hadn't she ever gone to Hogwarts before? Where was she prior to attacking the Ministry official?

"Why do I even bloody care?" he thought out loud.

After he spoke, he heard scuffling from the other side of the room. Quickly, he tore open his curtain to find a boy sifting through one of his dormmate's trunks.

"Does Rosier know you're being a nosy busybody, Black?" Snape asked accusingly.

Regulus Black snorted, not even lifting his head from his search. "Snape, come off it. Rosier is a lazy git and asked me to get his Firewhiskey stash. Said he needs to prepare for the party later this week."

Snape lifted his eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, if the boy cared half as much for his schoolwork than he did for his social formations, he'd be Headmaster by now.

Regulus laughed. "True, Prince. Lucky him, he's a Pureblood. He can weasel his way into any job. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't have to work a day in his life after graduation. Ah! Found it! Bloody hell, I think he has at least ten fifths of this stuff in his trunk."

"Let's make use of it, then. Bring one over here, Reg," Severus called out.

Regulus opened one of the bottles and took a swig of it. "Isn't it a bit early for us to be stealing Firewhisky?" he asked after the burning sensation dissipated from the back of his throat.

"Never," Severus answered simply, taking the bottle from the sixth's year's hands.

Regulus sat down next to Snape on the bed. "I'm assuming things aren't going as planned with the research?"

"I really don't want to discuss this right now, Reg," he responded before taking a long swig from the open bottle. "Ugh. I swear, the more you drink this stuff, the more it burns."

Regulus pursed his lips. "The Dark Lord can only be patient for so long, Severus."

"I'm working on it, Reg," he snapped. "Does the Dark Lord want to be presented with a class five powerful substance? I don't think so. It will be completed when it's reached its desired effect. I won't deliver anything less to him. What are you telling him?"

"That you are the most brilliant potions maker of our age, and that you are most eager to serve the cause. He seems pleased with the notes so far. Even to the point that he will spare your life until you finish the project. He's waiting anxiously, but the more you make him wait, the angrier he'll become."

Severus stood up from his bed and began pacing. "I don't understand why you had to give him _my _name! I haven't had anytime to work on my own personal research, let alone look into post secondary schools. This is going to delay all my plans. Only because you were too eager to kiss the Dark Lord's feet and gain his favor."

Regulus glared at Snape. "You would have done the same thing, Snape. To gain favor with the Dark Lord is to gain power. Isn't that what you've always been striving for? We both know that you're all but officially inducted as a Death Eater. Why point your finger at me?"

Snape closed his eyes and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Of course that's what I want. Good and Evil? No. It's Weakness and Power. Which side does anyone prefer to be on?" He sat down next to Regulus once more. "I've met with Malfoy and Lestrange. This…project…is very dear to the Dark Lord. The men tell me if I am successful, it will serve as my official initiation to his Inner Circle.

Regulus snorted and took another drink. "Mine was easier. The Dark Lord is very interested in the history of the Black family. All he wanted was a few heirlooms of mine. Grant it, mother was very much displeased," he shivered at the thought of Mrs. Black's shrill screams when it was revealed to her some of her precious possessions were taken.

"Which heirloom?" Severus asked curiously.

Black shrugged his shoulders. "The Dark Lord told me never to speak of it. He tells all the rest of us to never speak of our initiation and how we gained his trust. All I figure is that he must be an avid collector of priceless treasures, or something."

Severus furrowed his brow. There was no way Voldemort was simply a collector of valuables. The Dark Lord was brilliant, and he always had an intricate plan for the future. These heirlooms he searched for and collected could only be a major part of what he was striving for. Severus just couldn't place what he wanted from it all.

Black closed the bottle and moved to stand up to deliver the goods to Rosier. Before he left the room, Snape followed after him and grabbed his forearm.

"Listen, don't tell anyone about this yet, but I wanted your opinion on something, or rather, someone."

Regulus looked intrigued. "Of course, mate."

Severus brought him back towards the end of the dormitory. "The new Gryffindor girl, Granger."

Black started laughing hysterically. "Seriously, Snape? That chit is friends with my brother. What does that say about her?"

He rolled his eyes. "That she has bad taste in companionship. No, I've got some interesting developments about her. She's not who she says she is."

Regulus's eyes were glittering. "Go on."

Even though Snape was doing this for her benefit, he couldn't contain his excitement at his discovery. "The girl is an escaped convict. She apparently attacked a ministry official with the Imperius Curse and stole a top secret case from the Ministry vaults. She's hiding out here for a few months."

"Oh, come off it, Severus. That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

"Trust me, Reg. I'm a Legilimens, and the girl wasn't lying. She's a conniving power-hungry witch."

Regulus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Bloody hell. If she could do that and get away with it, she's got a lot of potential."

Severus nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

"And you can testify that this is true."

"Positive."

Regulus nodded and smirked. "Very well. We can't risk losing an ally like that, can we? I'll tell Rosier, Macnair, and the rest and see what they think."

It was standard to have everyone in the group's approval before allowing a newcomer to interact with all of them in public. But Rosier and Black were best friends. If Black approved of Granger, it was almost certain Rosier would be anxious to find out what else Granger has done in the past.

He went up to his trunk and rummaged to find some clean parchment. He didn't know what possessed him to write to the girl, but updating her on the status of their situation would be warranted. If Rosier approved and then notified Macnair, for sure Granger would be asked to attend at least a meal with them. She had to know what she was facing.

Severus managed to send the letter with few disruptions from the other members of his house. The last thoughts that crossed his mind as he tied the letter to the owl and sent it flying off into the distance of the school grounds, was that he knew, someday, he was going to regret getting Granger involved in any of this.

Yes, Severus Snape was sullen.


	11. Dinner Party

_A/N: A few things that I learned this past week. One, travelling is exhausting. Two, when your boyfriend lives 500 miles away and he visits you, you really don't want to do anything but be lazy with him. I swear, I think we watched six or seven movies. Three, whenever you take a break from writing, it's so hard to get back into a decent rhythm._

_I edited the format/content of chapter 1-4. I'll work on the others later this weekend. As for this one, All I know is that it definitely didn't turn out the way I initially planned, but I think it flows nicely right now. _

_Classes start Tuesdays, and I have callbacks for an audition I had this week. I do plan on continuing this story as the semester progresses. Of course, updates will not be regular. It really depends on the workload I get. But for now, as always, leave me your feedback. I'm so happy with the responses I've been getting. All the alerts, favorites, and reviews make me feel like I'm not wasting my time. :) Thanks a ton you guys!_

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**CHAPTER 11: DINNER PARTY**

"I'm going to murder that git!" Hermione screamed out loud as she rushed out of the common room.

She was briskly walking down toward the dungeons, hoping she would find the Slytherin who was slowly making her lose control of the current situation. She expected she had a few weeks before she had to confront the future Death Eaters, pretending to be immersed in the Dark Arts. However, Snape jumped the gun.

Hermione already had his short, terse letter memorized.

_Granger,_

_I'm holding my end of the bargain. My friends are expecting you to have dinner with us this Sunday evening. Be prepared for intense interrogation on your…situation. They have been informed about what you did. How far the story has been skewed, I cannot say. But I know for a fact they are intrigued. _

_I don't know your true intentions when it comes to ambition, but be very cautious when it comes to the majority of my friends. They don't take well to liars. Or to anyone that doesn't hold to their beliefs, in fact._

_STS_

A new bout of anger rushed through Hermione. "Seriously. I'm going to murder him!" she screamed again.

The dungeons had no sign of Snape patrolling, and to avoid the suspicious glances from the other Slytherins heading back to their domintories, she had no choice but to turn around. She racked through her brain, tryinig to figure out where Snape could be hiding, hoping it wasn't in his rooms. However, as she made her way to the library, she passed the corridor to the Room of Requirement, and she knew that Snape wouldn't be anywhere but in the private confines of his extensive laboratory. It just made perfect sense.

She rushed over to the walls and paced back and forth, wondering if the thoughts of that elaborate facility would be enough to bring back the room and study where Snape interrogated her. But as Hermione recalled what Lily told her about his private lab, that wouldn't be enough to find it.

Still, the doors eased into place like vines, and Hermione couldn't help but try to open the doors. What was there to lose? She placed a firm grip on the iron door handle, and pulled the latch.

Nothing. The door was locked. This didn't discourage Hermione. She knew she was a step closer to discovering the laboratory. If it was an ordinary room, she would have complete access to it. But because she wasn't allowed to enter, she knew Snape was in there. He must have set up wards.

No spells would open the door. She resorted to the last thing she could think of. She banged on the door.

"Snape! I know you're in there," she screamed in between rough fists against the wooden barrier. "C'mon, there's nothing in there that I don't know you're hiding." No reponse. "Snape! I'm not kidding. You've seriously jeopardized my stay here. Get your bloody Slytherin arse out here this instant, or I swear I'll…"

"You'll what, Granger? Tell Dumbledore and take points from Slytherin?" Snape said after he opened the door. Hermione must have not heard him lower the wards in between her consistent banging.

"We need to talk," she stated simply.

Snape looked hesitantly behind his shoulder. "I'm in the middle of an experiment. Can't we talk later?"

Hermione stood her ground. "No. You got me into this mess. When you said you'd help me avoid those…those creeps, I didn't think you'd tell them about me as soon as you got back to your bedroom! You haven't even given me the chance to think of a cover story."

Snape was shifting his weight nervously. "Hermione, seriously, this is a crucial stage in my brewing cycle. Meet me back here in an hour." And he quickly slammed the door before she could say anything else.

Hermione quickly stormed off down the corridor, angered at Snape's blunt dismissal, all the while being angry at herself, because her curiosity was tickled. She wished she knew what Snape was brewing. It most likely was something of his own creation. Probably dangerous. Still, the thought of something so volatile didn't seem to make her less curious.

Learning was her weakness, second in line to reading. She hated, _hated _her weaknesses.

Suddenly, Hermione heard a frustrated scream coming from the end of the corridor that she just left. It was a man's angered retorts, and she could hear it come closer. As if on cue, Hermione felt a sharp tightening grip on her wrist. She gasped as the hand quickly pulled her back to the other end of the hallway. She was forced to turn around and walk with the intruder.

But it was only Snape, dragging her back to the Room of Requirement.

"What are you doing?" she yelled, trying to pull out of his grasp. He only tightened his hold on the petite wrist.

"You wanted to talk, so we are going to talk," he spat, not turning his head to face her. He continued his brisk pace, dragging her behind him. Finally, they reached the door, and when they were inside, he slammed it forcefully.

Snape finally let go of her wrist. Hermione tried to massage where he painfully gripped the skin. "What about your experiment?"

She shouldn't have mentioned it. The reminder earned her a vicious glare. "You ruined it with your uncalled for interruption."

Hermione was suddenly overcome with guilt. "Oh…I'm….I'm sorry, Severus." _What the hell, Hermione. You're apologizing for a failed potions experiment when he pretty much sealed your death sentence! Grow a spine, you coward! _

He rolled his eyes and walked back to his cauldron to start cleaning up the area. He was still silently fuming. Hermione assumed he wasn't going to bring anything up of value into their conversation. He was too angry.

"What reasoning, may I ask, did you have to bring up my name to those…._friends_ of yours so quickly? Didn't you think for a second I wouldn't be prepared? Or do you desire to see me fall until your attacks? What were you _thinking?"_ Hermione said this all in one breath.

Snape didn't respond immediately. Rather, he pretended he was ignoring her. But she saw his movements falter as she began to speak. Finally, he dropped the cloth he was using to clean out the cauldron and made eye contact with her.

"I was only keeping my word, Granger," he audibly whispered. "I held up my end of the bargain, like I told you in the letter. I am not responsible for the rest of my group's actions. If they want to meet you, I'm not going to stop them. I'm trying to stay out of it the best that I can."

"It's too late for that, Snape. You are in too deep with me, and I cannot have you abandoning me in this time of need." Her voice betrayed her bravery and nerve. "I won't survive them without you."

Snape's dark obsidian eyes never wavered. Hermione's chestnut orbs pleaded for him to help her, and it was obvious he was having an internal battle. He finally sighed and looked away. "We don't have much time, then."

Hermione exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and her face broke into a grateful smile. "If there's anyone who can come up with a convincing story, it's you."

He tossed the soiled cloth into a basin and scoffed at her. "Here's the thing, Granger. I'm not going to think of a cover story. You are. I will be there to support your stories. That is all. I have more pressing matters to think about."

Hermione saw a number of expressions cross his face. For the first time, she noticed a haggard look sinking into his features, as if he was faced with a pressuring situation. His brief look of contemplation turned quickly into one of confusion, to frustration, and then back to a defeated exhaustion.

"Since you're helping me, the least I can do is offer to help you back," she offered.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her. "Like you actually know anything about my research?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, something that seemed to be a regular occurance when having a conversation with her future professor. "You know damn well I'm very adept to potions making. I'm just offering another point of view to your research and notes."

He snorted. "Trust me. You'll have no interest in my work."

"Try me." The look of determination on her face made Snape stop in his tracks, but then he smirked in response.

"I'd rather not," he stated simply. Her response was another eye roll, and he chuckled out loud. "Honestly woman, you'd think you would know more expressions beyond the dramatic eye roll or the unexpected flashing smile."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Oh, you don't want to see what other expressions I can do. And it goes beyond the facial realm. It can get quite physical too."

She cursed inwardly at her awkward pronouncement. She felt her cheeks turn crimson in embarrassment. To her surprise, she saw Snape actually look away, behaving rather uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and mumbled something about misplacing an old textbook of his.

"Anyways, Granger. Just…just meet me here twenty minutes before six and we can discuss the tactics. Yes…okay then…" He tried ushering her out of the doors, but he noticed the mix of apprehensiveness and embarrassment in her features.

"Hermione, they aren't capable of much while they are inside the walls of the castle. All they can do is harass with meaningless threats. Trust me. It will only be dinner."

Hermione bashfully brushed a few of her loose curls behind her ear, finding a particular interesting spot on the stone way to fixate upon. "I'll take your word on it, Severus." She finally gathered enough courage to read his expression, which was now the usual masked façade. "Promise you won't abandon me?"

He sighed, a side of his mouth upturned. "I guess so. I mean, I did set you up for this, didn't I? It wouldn't be fair if I hung you out to dry. Now, leave. I really have to keep working on this project."

"I can help…"

"LEAVE!"

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. He mind was scrambled with the numerous dilemmas she was faced with. She took a deep breath. Snape was right. It was only dinner. How terrible could it be?

* * *

As Hermione made her way to the Room of Requirement, she was still at a loss of how she would behave with the rest of the Slytherins. All day, her throat was consistenly dry and her palms unbelievably clammy. She was concerned her legs would give out from the nervous energy she was holding in. The light at the end of the tunnel was the knowledge that it would be over in a few hours, and hopefully she wouldn't have to tolerate anymore of their presence.

She found Severus leaning up against the wall, facing the horrid tapestry of the dancing trolls. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice Hermione approaching, or to notice her studying him with awe.

His stance wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He was wearing his school uniform, minus the outer black robes. His prefect badge was pinned on his white button down, as a part of his duties for the school. His arms were folded across his chest, and he was resting his back against the wall, one foot bend back resting against the stone. The laxity in his usual rigid demeanor, with his green and silver tie loosened under his neck, and the top button of his collar unfastened suited him.

Her eyes took in the sight. Hermione couldn't deny that she was fascinated with the man, her future terror of a teacher. But, seeing him so relaxed and so natural made her understand who he was just a little better. This new Severus Snape, with his crisp white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, was a shadow of the future man she would come to know and to fear and to… admire.

Hermione knew she had to be careful.

She cleared her throat, which drew Snape out of his reverie. She shifted her weight nervously from foot to foot. _Goodness, his stare is so intense._ "Should we go now?" she asked quietly.

Snape approached her with his hand clasped together. "A few things first. One, call me by my given name. Two, don't question or act surprised by anything that I do."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Can you be more ambiguous than that?" she asked sarcastically.

"It's for your own good. Treat it like plan B."

"Plan B? Pray tell me what that entails."

"I already told you not to question me," he snapped. "If you keep alert and don't be surprised, you'll make it out alright and we won't have to go to Plan B." Snape looked around him to see if the corridor was free. "Take hold of my arm."

Hermione looked confused. "Excuse me?"

"Do it, for Merlin's sake." He offered her his arm.

She looked at him with trepidation, and reluctantly accepted his arm. Her hand rested on the bare skin, since he had forgotten to roll his sleeves back down. She saw that he was not yet branded by the Dark Mark, and her stomach fluttered with hope.

What surprised her next was that Snape placed his adjacent hand over hers. Hermione knew she shouldn't have been taken aback from this gesture. It was silly to imagine that Snape's hand would be just as cold as his usual demeanor. Instead, the hand was wam against her skin. She had no idea how she felt about it.

Hermione felt her mouth go dry once more, but she was not quite sure if it was from her anxiety about dinner. "Why are you behaving like my escort, Snape?"

He gently guided her down the hall. "What did I tell you about my name?" he whispered.

Hermione didn't respond, but continued to walk arm-in-arm with Sn…Severus. _How the bloody hell am I supposed to call him by his name after calling him Professor for so many years? And what the devil is he thinking?_

"Hermione, stop looking like I've come back from the dead. Relax." Severus snapped her from her racing thoughts, but his comment hit too close to home.

"Sorry Sn…Severus. I…I just wish I knew what you were up to."

"I'm only trying to keep you from harm's way, now bugger up. We're almost in the Great Hall." They reached the grand staircase leading to the Entrance Hall.

"Aren't people going to see us like this?" Hermione asked quietly.

"That's the point, you insufferable girl. Now, play the part!" Severus snapped.

She definitely was shocked, but decided that Severus probably knew what he was doing. (At least, she hoped he did). When they reached the Great Hall, he released her arm. Hermione walked in front of him, but Severus kept a close following distance, guiding her towards the Slytherin table with a gentle touch on the small of her back. In a way, it soothed Hermione.

It was a different sensation to sit at the opposite end of the hall. She made a hard effort to make sure her familiars at the Gryffindor table didn't take notice of her new choice of company for the evening. Still, she knew it was going to be unavoidable at one point. Might as well make most of the situation and end it as soon as she could.

Severus motioned for her to sit at a vacant end of the table and he settled himself next to her, which she was grateful for. He silently began filling his plate, so she took that as an invitation to do the same. Just when she was beginning to feel a little less anxious, the rest of the group arrived. Hermione knew she could not behave like she normally would, and automatically give them the cold shoulder. She had to use her Gryffindor courage to get her through this. That was what allowed her to turn her head to greet the new arrivals.

The majority of them gave her a physical appraisal before sitting down. Hermione had to swallow her desire to roll her eyes. As if looks were important. They allowed Crabbe and Goyle to hang about! Still, she couldn't help but notice the high esteem each of them held themselves to, which was admirable. Some of them may be daft as flobberworms, but they wouldn't let that get them down. They had images to upkeep, whether it be physical, intellectual, or in worst case scenerios, family status related.

A burly, rather handsome looking fellow took the seat on the other side of Hermione and offered his hand as a greeting. "So, you're the famous Hermione Granger. Severus has told us a lot about you." The boy smirked at Snape, who was currently more interested in his goblet of pumpkin juice. "I'm Regulus Black, descendant of the noble House of Black. And I give you our warmest welcome to our Slytherin table."

This was not as awkward as Hermione expected, and she accepted Regulus's handshake. "I can't image Severus could have told you enough to warrant such a grand invitation, but I definitely appreciate your welcome here."

Another person on Regulus's other side bent over to outstretch his own hand. "We are most honored to have you here with us, Miss Hermione. I hope we haven't gotten off on the wrong foot from the other night. I'm Walden Macnair. Obviously, call me Macnair." Everyone around him chuckled. "I would go by Walden, of course. I was named after my great-great-grandfather, but no one here seems to be knowledgeable about our proud history!" he angrily retorted at the ignorance of his friends.

"Well, if it pleases you, I can call you either name. I don't mind," Hermione smoothly responded, taking his hand as well.

Macnair was impressed by the sheer respect she offered him. "Macnair will be fine," he said, returning to his plate, but still not removing the prideful smile on his face.

"I'm Avery," the boy across from Hermione said, "And the rest of the crew is Crabbe, Goyle, and Mulciber. Of course, there are more of us, like Malfoy, Wilkes and Rosier, but they've all graduated, you see."

He obviously was name throwing, but Hermione simply nodded. "Of course. I'm sure they are all charming like the rest of you." Goyle picked the perfect time to belch. "I'm pleased to meet all of your acquaintance."

The conversation throughout the rest of dinner was usual banter. Classes, Quidditch, gossip and rude comments about particular students. All seemed innocent and ordinary. Hermione even caught herself chiming in when a particular comment about Divination was brought up. Severus still seemed to not invest much into the conversation, which disappointed her slightly. But overall, Hermione was surprising herself. Who knew that a bunch of future murdering Death Eaters could actually hold decent conversations? Perhaps they weren't as different as she thought.

As they settled down for tea at the end of dinner, the moment of truth came. Avery took a long sip from his cup, then set it down back on the saucer. "So, Hermione. Severus has told us you are quite the trouble maker." The others around him snickered.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I guess. I mean, I was sorted into Gryffindor. That should say something."

Regulus patted her on the back. "Know that we are saying all of this with the upmost admiration _because _you're in Gryffindor. We don't expect that kind of behavior from your House. Bold and brazen. You did what you did because you were after something, and you just had to get it by any means necessary!" Regulus said this with a passion that made Hermione nervous.

She swallowed apprehensively, inwardly wondering if the Sorting Hat initially made a mistake placing her in Godric's House. "Wouldn't anyone?" was her only response.

"Do tell me, Hermione," Macnair inquired, "Would you be interested in efficiency? I mean, next time you won't have to go to such lengths to get what you want if you consider our offer. I'm sure Severus has explained a few things to you. You may not be from these parts, but I feel you'd be a woman who would take advantage of our situation."

Hermione had a notion as to what Macnair was referring to, but she wasn't quite sure how to respond. She hoped Severus would chime in with some sort of diversion in the conversation, but none came, and she felt all alone. She wrung her hands together and placed them awkwardly on her lap, a nervous habit she picked up over the years. Thousands of possible lies crossed through her mind, but she felt she wouldn't convince the lot of them of it. There wasn't any choice but to tell the truth.

She exhaled slowly. But before she began speaking, she felt a comforting touch coming from her left, where Snape was sitting. He simply reached under the table, and secretly grasped her hand, squeezing it gently. That simple gesture calmed Hermione down, and suddenly she had an idea that might fool the group into believing her. It wasn't quite the truth, when it came to her history and behavior in the Second War, but for now, in 1977, it would do.

"I appreciate your offer, Macnair. Truly, I do. And if I was going to stay in the country longer than a few months, I would consider it. However, I cannot get too involved in anything right now. I'm sure Severus told you why."

Macnair looked put off by her polite decline. "But that's the beauty of it. You wouldn't have to be on the run anymore. If anything, they'll be running from you. You're a powerful witch, Granger. You know that, and that idiot bloke from the Ministry knows that too. I'm sure he's still twitching from your Cruciatus Curse." Hermione felt Snape squeeze her hand, as a sign not to object to the alteration of the story. "We could go farther with you if you'd join us, Hermione."

She sighed and pursed her lips. "Honestly, Macnair, I'm flattered. I really am. But from what I've learned over the past few weeks being a convict, is that right now I have the power to be free or to be captured. I don't want anyone involved with my actions, and likewise I don't want to be involved with yours, or in this rising war, to be frank. It's too much and I think it would risk my freedom rather than promote me."

This statement, although convincing the group of her loyalties, did not help the tension that began to grow after her refusal. Avery folded his arms across his chest and scrutinized her. Apparently he wasn't one to believe her story like the rest of them. "What are you?" He asked tersely.

Hermione furrowed her brow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, it's obvious we Slytherins take pride in our heritage. All of us are Pureblood. Well, save for Snape. His mother had to go shag a filthy muggle. No, I can't say I recognize the name Granger." The rest of the group was catching on, and were exchanging suspicious looks.

Hermione was definitely not expecting these lines of questioning. She bit her lower lip, completely at a loss of what to say.

"Once again, boys, I'm surprised at your stupidity," the voice of Snape permeated the conversation. The sound of salvation to Hermione. "You really think a wanted felon would keep her given name? Honestly, I may be halfblood, but I know I have more intelligence in my brain than the lot of yours put together." He slid closer to Hermione, placing a strong arm around her shoulders.

Avery seemed to accept this logical finding. "That may be true. Fine. A surname, then. I'm already disgusted that I had dinner with a coward. The worst case scenario is that I had dinner with a bloody cowardly mudblood!"

"Prewett. She's a descendant from the Prewett line." Severus said before Hermione could think of a pureblood name. He obviously was affected by the use of language the other boy spoke. "And if you don't mind, for her safety, it's best we drop the subject from now on and never speak of it again unless it's on her terms. And if you do, then I'll hex you so badly the Ministry will be looking for you instead of Granger."

Hermione turned her head slightly to give Severus an appreciative glance. But the rest of the glances around the table were far from that. If anything, Hermione had the suspicion she had just made things worse for herself.

Severus stood up and offered his arm again for Hermione. "If that's all, gentlemen, Hermione and I have…business to attend to."

Hermione tried to smile at the angry men. "Once again, it was a pleasure meeting you all," she managed to say before Snape ushered her towards the doors of the hall.

Once again, luck seemed to slip from them, for the two of them ran into the other member of the Black family who was rushing to catch the last few minutes of dinner. "Hermione?" he called out before crashing into a group of giggling first year girls.

"Oh…hello Sirius," she responded. She knew the situation probably looked a little outrageous to the other Gryffindor. She was standing next to the boy he hated greatly, her arm interlocked with his. People would be talking about it for weeks.

Sirius managed to hold his tongue, but his glance switched numerous times from Hermione to Severus, to Hermione, and back to Severus, pausing once in a while to where his hand was possessively placed on hers for protection.

Sirius sighed and shook his head. "We'll talk later," he said disdainfully.

Hermione groaned as he made his way to the Gryffindor table, and she let go of Severus's arm. "Merlin, more things to settle out! Isn't there anyway to avoid the drama?"

"Now is not the time to contemplate how your life is dramatic. We have bigger problems on our hands," Severus quickly whispered. "Put your arm around my waist as we walk the rest of the way to the laboratory, and do it in a manner that looks like I'm not forcing you to do so."

Hermione gave him an astonished look. "Are you crazy? Sirius was pissed to see us having our arms interlocked. If he sees us walking that closely, he'll think…"

"Never mind about Sirius! He's not going to attack you. Do as I say and they won't bother you."

Hermione caught a glimpse of the group of Slytherins huddled together behind Severus's shoulder. It did not look promising. "I thought you said it was only dinner. That they weren't capable of attacking me in the castle walls. Will they harm me, Severus?"

"Not if they think I'm shagging you," he calmly stated.

"What! Is that what you told them! That's your Plan B?" she whispered angrily.

"You obviously didn't have a better plan!" he spat. "This is your last offer of protection. Get close to me and play your part or your life will be a living hell from now until you leave Hogwarts."

Seeing the boys in the distance stand up from the table and slowly approach them made her take Severus's offer, and she wrapped her left arm around his slender waist. He did the same with his opposite arm, and they made their way out of the hall in each other's embrace.

At the top of the stairs, Severus made an effort to gently caress her back. Hermione knew that he was only doing it to protect her, but she was grateful either way. It was like a comforting blanket. Severus was putting so much effort to make this lascivious affair look believable to his group. And that story was going to protect her for the rest of her career at Hogwarts.

It was strange how history was to repeat itself. Severus was going to protect her now, as a student. And then as a professor.

They walked further down the corridors and back up stair to reach Snape's private labs. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear fumbling steps, probably from either Crabbe or Goyle. _Like father, like son, those babbling baffoons. _

Severus did something that Hermione didn't expect. He let go of her waist, and pulled her in close, his free arm resting gently on the small of her back while his other hand began brushing the hair from her face and placing it gently behind her ear. Hermione inadvertently closed her eyes and she felt his slightly calloused fingertips glide across her smooth skin. She felt his breath on her cheek as he lowered his face, which sent shivers up her spine.

"Hermione," he whispered gently into her ear. _Merlin, that voice is entrancing._ "Right now, the men are thinking I'm whispering seductively in your ear. You have to act like I am, alright? I'm a gentleman, Hermione, which means I'm not going to harm you or do anything that will violate you. What's going to happen next is that we are going to go back into my laboratory, and from there, they can't touch you. You'll be safe. Just make this believable, okay?"

Hermione couldn't resist. Her arms made their way up around Severus's neck. She pulled her head back and her chestnut brown eyes met the black pools of his. "Of course, Severus," she whispered in response.

She wished her heart would stop pounding so quickly. Or that her breathing would not be so short. Or that her throat would open up. This energy, this…chemistry between them was overpowering. She had never felt that much intense power between another person and herself.

His eyes flickered with an unreadable expression. Perhaps unreadable because she had never seen it on him before. If it was any ordinary man, Hermione could swear it was something akin to longing, want, desire, lust…

"Let's go then," Severus whispered, finally breaking the intense connection. Hermione still felt it linger around them as he took a gentle hold of her hand and they waited for the door to appear so she could get back to safety.


	12. Guilt and Cowardice

_A/N: Goodness gracious. I'm sorry this took longer than expected. I kept writing and erasing and writing and erasing. I think I like the way it is now. Meblegh. Anywho, classes have started, so I'm slowly getting adjusted again. Last semester of undergrad EVER. Hooray. As always, your reviews and comments are always wanted. The notification e-mails are always enlightening. Thanks for checking this out!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 12: GUILT AND COWARDICE**

If Hermione thought things were awkward the day before, it was nothing compared to the atmosphere she and Severus were in as he quietly shut the doors of the laboratory behind them. For a silent minute, they forgot they were still holding hands, and as Severus raise his wand to light the torches in the room, he let go of hers as if the flames on the walls burned his hand from that far of a distance.

Luckily for Hermione, Severus never turned to face her. It would have reminded her of how close he was to her moments before, his fingers whispering across her skin as his voice enveloped her. She shook off a shiver than ran through her at the memories. She never imagined Snape could be so gentle. But then again, she was comparing 17 year old Severus with her 38 year old Professor Snape. Of course the two of them would be different in…intimate situations.

Hermione shook her head again and wrapped her arms around her for comfort. The last thing she needed was thoughts of Snape being intimate…

_Maybe that's what you want…_ Her conscience betrayed her.

She surpressed a groan and willed for anything to help take her mind of what she just experienced. She rushed passed Severus, who was now in a few of his cupboards gathering the necessary ingredients for his next potions work. Hermione went to the basin next to a discarded cauldron and was just about to clean it, aiming her wand and picking up a clean rag when Snape stopped her.

"Don't you dare Scourgify that cauldron. The magic will wear down the silver lining and render it useless! Plus, it may contaminate the next brew I make in it! Don't you ever use you head?" He snapped as he rushed over to where she was standing. He was livid.

Hermione dropped the rag and backed away slowly, a bit overcome by his sudden biting demeanor. "I'm sorry, Severus. I just want to help you for everything that you just did for me."

He snatched the discarded cloth and began to wipe vigorously at the inside of the cauldron. "You want to help? Go to the study and mind your own work. I've already told you I don't want your help!"

She furrowed her brow. Hermione never met any man that was as hot and cold than this troubled Slytherin. She scoffed and did as she was told, settling herself down in the chair in front of the hearth. The room was silent for a couple minutes, but Hermione was already bored staring at the fire with nothing else to do. She still had a ton of homework to complete. Might as well go fetch some of the work to take up the time.

As she approached the door, Snape called out to her again. "What are you doing now, Granger?"

She rolled her eyes as she reached for the door handle. "Well, seeing that you don't want me to help you brew, I'm not just going to sit here doing nothing. I'm going back to my rooms to get some work."

"Oh, no you aren't!" Snape yelled, and suddenly, she felt a burn on her hand and she retracted it from the brass handle. She turned to look at him, utter bewilderment on her face as she massaged the sore spot on the back of her hand where the curse landed.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" she screamed.

"I highly doubt the rest of the group has left the corridor. They are probably waiting to attack you as soon as you leave the room. And personally, since you've only been here for ten minutes, I can't have you leaving now," he stated simply.

Hermione gave him a confused look. "You don't make any sense."

Severus let out an exasperated sigh. "It's quite simple, really. The boys think we are…busy…"

"Shagging, you mean," Hermione spat.

He brushed her off. "Whatever. But anyways, if you leave now, that may play an effect on my reputation. I can't go letting you leave this room, making my House think I am not substantial."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Are you…_serious? _You are really concerned whether your friends think you can perform in bed? For Merlin's sake, Severus, I thought you were above all that. God, that's so…so….baseless and trivial!"

He shrugged his shoulders and continued with his work. "Be that as it may, Hermione. It's a man's world. We have different priorities than women."

She shook her head, still in disbelief that he could care about such worthless banter. "Still, I would expect more from you, Severus. Only a daft ill-witted bloke whose entire life is devoted to bed as many witches as possible would worry about that. Not you."

He ran a frustrated hand through his lank hair. "Oh okay, Hermione. Don't worry about the fact I saved your skin today. I mean, it was only your life at stake. And your cover about how you dabble in the Dark Arts. It was nothing!"

"Fine. I'll drop it!" She said in finality and she made her way back to the chairs in front of the fire. Hermione wasn't one to keep quiet when angry though. She dramatically stomped her way around the floor, loudly exhaling to show her dissatisfaction. "How long will be considered _satisfactory_ for me to stay, Casanova?"

Severus was keeping busy at his work station, but he paused in between his work and sighed. "Well, being a proper gentleman, I was hoping I would walk you safely to your Common Room. But I've already begun my experiment and I don't want a repeat of yesterday, so…" he trailed off.

Hermione grumbled and cursed outwardly. "So you're saying I'm stuck here all night? What am I supposed to do for the next few hours? You won't let me help you brew and you won't let me get my homework. Merlin, you're so frustrating and insufferable! I didn't think I'd find another person who would annoy me more than…"

Hermione wished she could bite her tongue. Losing her temper with Snape was one thing, but losing control of what she was saying would jeopardize everything. And she instantly regretted it when she saw the gleam of playful curiosity in his eyes. She knew she was in a rut.

"Annoy you more than whom, may I ask?" Severus smirked, obviously enjoying her discomfort.

"It's none of your business," she snapped.

Severus chuckled. "I think I know who you are referring to. Although I must say, I do resent being compared to Potter and Black, but perhaps I deserve it this time around.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course it isn't Black or Potter. Must I remind you that I just met them a few weeks ago? I don't even know them! Why does everything you do have to revolve around your animosity for those boys?"

Severus looked a bit surprised at the news. "Well, it only took me two weeks to loathe them. I'm sure they could drive you crazy by day three. I think it's a fair guess."

"Well trust me, Severus. It's not them." She could hear him set down his tools on the table and his footsteps approached the study. Severus then took a seat in the chair next to hers, unasked questions barely disguised under his stoic front. "I'm not telling you who it is," she added matter-of-factly.

"That's not fair, Hermione. I have the right to know who you compare me to."

"Why would you want to know who I think is more annoying than you?"

"I don't know. Simple curiosity."

She scoffed. "Come off it, Snape. I wouldn't tell you if you held me at knife point."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'll make you a deal. Give me one guess. I'll analyze everything, and then I will guess who this mystery annoying person is. Your part of the deal is to confirm whether I'm wrong or right."

Hermione's lips quirked at the thought of Snape playing guessing games. She had to admit, it would be humorous to see him rack his brains. She sighed in finality. "Alright. You can guess all you want, and I promise to be fair in the outcome. She relaxed into her chair, waiting for him to begin.

Severus had a thoughtful expression on his face as he deduced the puzzle. Hermione chuckled silently at his intense concentration on the matter in front of him. His brow was furrowed and he was muttering quietly to himself, tapping his chin with his index finger, and occasionally pursing his lips. Finally, his all familiar smirk rose on his face, and he looked up at Hermione smugly.

"I've got it," he began. "You confirmed to me that it's not a Hogwarts student, since you don't know any of us too well. I narrowed that down to either your family or friends from wherever you're originally from." He leaned back in his chair. "You're an only child, so a brother or sister is out of the picture."

"How do you know I'm an only child?" Hermione asked, mildly covering up her shock.

Severus shrugged his shoulders pompously, obviously proud of his deduction. "I am as well. And you are rather…shall we say it…abrasive when it comes to things you want to be done. If you had younger siblings, you'd be more protective. If your siblings were older, you'd be more willing to show admiration to your older peers. And, generally speaking, you don't seem to negotiate a compromise very well. It's like the saying, 'your way or the highway.'"

She snorted. "I resent all that."

She heard him chuckle. "Who says it's a bad thing?" Hermione bit her lower lip as she met his eyes, which were glittering playfully in the firelight. He continued on with his analysis. "Anyways, you reaction right now confirmed it's not family. And because you are in Gryffindor, and you wear your heart on your sleeve, I'd assume I'd already hear revolting stories about a boyfriend. Since you haven't, I'm going to guess it's an ex-lover."

Hermione gave him a small smile at his response. "Close enough." She could have sworn she saw his face drop a little, but it also could have been from the poor lighting of the room.

"Current lover?" he inquired.

She sighed and stared off into the fire. "Well…sort of…I guess. If he'll have me back…" Her voice trailed off, the sadness reflected in it.

The fire crackled in the silence, her words hanging heavily in her heart. The guilt that she had been trying to bury throughout this whole ordeal threatened to explode. If she wanted to remember Ron, she didn't want to think of how much she hurt him.

"Do you…want to talk about it?" Severus's mellow voice offered, breaking the silent tension.

Hermione knew she should have kept her mouth shut. She didn't need to burden him with any nonsensical female banter about a broken heart. But she longed for a friendly shoulder to lean on, and he was the first willing person in this decade to do so. She couldn't pass it up. Before she knew it, the stories of Ron came flowing out of her mouth like an erupted dam. She, of course, never disclosed his name, and Severus never pressed for one. But the more she spoke, the more she couldn't stop herself, and the more she put her future at risk. Tears were slowly falling down her cheeks as she recollected about her ex-fiancée, and Hermione was inwardly kicking herself for being so weak in front of Snape, and for being so weak as to possibly ruin everything by telling him too much. In her present state, she lost all care for the future. It was 1977, and she needed a friend. That's all that mattered.

In her upset state, Severus managed to conjure up some tea and offer her a handkerchief for her tears. She smiled graciously at his kind gesture, never thinking her future professor could be so sympathetic. "You're a really good listener, Severus."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps I'm only pretending to listen. What of that?" he joked, trying to lighten up the mood. He picked up his own cup and sipped gently. "You didn't need to break off the engagement. If he loved you like you said he did, he would have waited as long as he could for you."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at his naivety. "What, and make him wait thirty years until I qualified for parole? Or better yet, how about celebrate our anniversary in a prison cell. How romantic!" She sighed. "No, it wouldn't be fair to him to make him wait or make his life that inconvenient. I had to. He deserves better."

"He'll take you back, Hermione," she heard him whisper. "You are his first love, after all. A person never lets go of their first love."

Hermione turned to face the boy next to her, and what she saw in his eyes was unbearable. If she didn't believe the story about his love for Lily all this time, the pain in his eyes would change her mind. It was an expression that was so hard to interpret. There was happiness at the thought of the girl, mixed with the bittersweetness of losing her, plus all the weight of having his emotions unrequited. It was something so beautiful in all its pain, Hermione wished she could take some of it away.

"Lily did love you, you know," Hermione whispered comfortingly. She refrained from reaching over and grasping his hand.

Severus closed his eyes and shook his head in sadness. "Perhaps, but never in the way I wanted her to. I was only her 'Dear friend Sev.' It would never be anything more than that."

"I don't think that's true, Severus. I mean, what do we know about love when we are sixteen? I think if time elapsed further, and you were upfront and honest about your emotions, then…"

She saw him stiffen in his chair, and he abruptly stood up. "I need to finish this experiment," he snapped sharply, ending the emotional conversation.

Hermione sighed. Severus's mood changes always were so sudden. It was like being doused with a spray of ice cold water without any prior warning. She curled up in her arm chair, already missing the friendly atmosphere that dissipated with his bitter leave. Looking at her watch only made her feel worse. It was only a little past nine in the evening. If he was just starting the potion, she would definitely be there well into the night.

Hermione stood up and stretched her legs, making her way to the bookshelves along the wall. She perused the titles on the bindings. Some of the words she could make out. Other books were very old. She assumed he fixed the bindings himself. A few of them were even written in a different language. Hermione was impressed. No typical seventeen year old would already have such an extensive collection of books.

"You can borrow one for the evening, if you'd like," Severus called out, interrupting her thoughts.

She turned her head smiled hesitantly. "You sure? I wouldn't want to intrude."

He continued to measure out ingredients. "What else are you going to do tonight? I insist. Take a book. Make yourself comfortable for the time being. I will let you know when I'm finished and I will walk you back."

Hermione obliged, and grabbed a particular interesting large text, one that was already rebounded. "You don't mind if I do some alterations to the chairs, do you?" He didn't respond, but was deeply concentrated on his work. "Alright, I'll take that as a yes."

She approached the two large chairs and pushed them so they were adjacent and touching. With a flurry of wand movements, the two chairs morphed into a long, comfortable sofa that Hermione eagerly settled herself into and immersed herself in the text.

Unfortunately, she had the luck of the draw. The book she grabbed turned out to be written in very ancient English, possibly dating back to the Anglo-Saxon era of Britain. But she began to slowly dissect and decipher the text, and she was pleasantly surprised that it seemed very familiar to her. And suddenly, she laughed out loud.

"Hogwarts: A History," she called out to Severus. "Brilliant! I thought I was the only person who owned a personal copy."

Severus looked up from his work. "Yes. It's a first edition. Transcribed 200 years after the school was instituted. Of course it's extremely out dated, but it's a family heirloom. My mother wouldn't give up her books, and," he paused suddenly. "Hang on. Why would you own a copy of a book about a school you don't go to?"

_I HATE YOU HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! _"Umm, well, just because I decided not to go here doesn't mean I never considered it in the past," she rebounded.

Severus exhaled sharply. "You're lucky I care about this potion more than your lies right now. I won't press the matter further. Now, leave me to my work."

The tinkling of glass and the scraping sound from Severus's work tools soothed Hermione as she continued to read the ancient text. The warm of the fire and the comfort from the sofa made her eyes feel heavier than normal. She shut the text and placed it on the stand next to the armrest. Nights like tonight made her feel like a typical teenage girl, wanting nothing more than to be lying on the sofa, wrapped in the arms of the man she loved.

She sighed and folded her arms around her person as a substitute. Ron would not be around for a few more months, and even then it wasn't for certain he'd forgive her. Severus's words rang strong in her head. A person never lets go of their first love completely. She desperately hoped that was true when it came to Ron. She didn't know what she would do if he didn't take her back.

She adjusted her position so she was lying straight on the couch and her thoughts mused on the events of that evening. Severus was putting a lot of effort into keeping her safe. She didn't understand why. Perhaps it was like he said a few weeks back when she ran into him in the corridor at night. She wasn't a threat to him. And even though he claimed he didn't trust her, she had a hard time believing that. There was no other reason he was offering his assistance to her, and opening up to her as well.

He truly was a gifted actor, for sure. He fooled all his friends, making them believe she was some sort of progressive Dark Arts advocate, not to mention his…mistress. And he recovered so well when it got extremely stressful at dinner. The fact he said a legitimate pureblood name from the top of his head…well…it was astounding how well he worked under pressure.

It was only too ironic he picked the name she was going to marry into. Her own children were supposed to have some Prewett blood flowing through their veins. At least in a way he didn't lie to those Slytherins.

Guilt suddenly pervaded through Hermione's conscious. Yes, she wanted to save Severus's future by convincing him to join forces with her to defeat the Dark, instead of his path of evil. But, he was a talented spy. Without his help and exchange of information, who knows what the Order of the Phoenix could lose…

Finally, the weight and the repercussions of Hermione's decisions were catching up with her. She considered backing off on her original plan, letting Severus make his own life choices. But how could she just sit back and watch him stumble and fall so deep into the Dark Arts that his life would forever be controlled by the consequences of his actions? He didn't deserve it. He died for no reason. He was a good person.

Hermione exhaled loudly and rolled to face the warmth of the fire. Maybe sleep would come easy to her.

* * *

Severus was too engrossed in his work to notice the time passing by. It was well past midnight when he checked the clock. His precious potion needed to brew for at least fifteen minutes before the most sensitive part of the experiment: Adding the unicorn's blood and the powdered thestral talon. After that, he would stew a few hemlock leaves in the substance, and it would be ready for the final incantation.

He wiped his brow, feeling the fatigue of the work and the long day catching up to him. As he began putting some of the utensils he was finished using in the wash basin, his thoughts wandered to the events of the past day.

Severus cursed himself for protecting the chit. She had gotten herself into a mess, and now he definitely got himself tied up in something that he didn't have to be involved with. He sighed. He needed to learn how to be more apathetic when it came to tight situations. He was too emotional and needed to learn to close his mind, even when justice was not offered.

That was his main problem. He knew even though Hermione was guilty of casting the Imperius Curse, she was no Dark Arts advocator. She was just a woman who got caught up in the moment. In any normal situation, she wouldn't hurt anyone if they didn't deserve it. And because Severus knew that deep down that was true, he couldn't stand by and watch her get tortured when she didn't deserve it.

His other problem was the fact he was lonely, and Hermione came to him at his most vulnerable state. He welcomed her advances, even though he would never openly admit it. With Hermione, it seemed like she already knew him. He didn't know why this was happening, but with her, he didn't have to pretend to be an aspiring blood thirsty, mudblood-hating Death Eater. He could be Severus Snape, a Slytherin who wanted nothing more than do research for medicine and to be left alone.

But Severus was left with too many unanswered questions. True, he made progress with her that evening, but it answered a few and drew up a hundred more. She finally told him personal information, although he didn't understand why the thought of Hermione being betrothed bothered him so much. She was a level headed woman. Why wouldn't she have a man? Why wouldn't she fall in love with her best friend? She probably had loads of men fighting to win her affections, and this mystery fiancée won her heart.

But a part of Severus thought he sensed confusion emanating from Hermione as she told her story, as if she wasn't sure that's what she really wanted. Married at eighteen? She was too brilliant to settle for a life as a housewife, if that was what her betrothed wanted from her. But if that was the case, Severus didn't think she would have said yes to his proposal.

No, Hermione's problem must lie within her affections for the man. Perhaps she didn't know if she loved him anymore. The bewilderment in her eyes spoke of this plainly. But why was she so adamant about having him take her back? Severus only assumed that it was because she didn't want to be alone when facing her arrest. She would need support as she went through the trial and sentencing. Her fiancée would surely be that person she would cling to, even though she may not want to be married.

Severus may have found theories about his behavior towards Hermione, and gathered some ideas about her relationship with her ex-fiancée, but that didn't explain how she knew about his feelings for Lily. He racked his brain, wondering if in the past few weeks he let it slip about his former relationship with the witch, but he knew he was very careful with information he gave to his peers, especially strangers. It didn't make sense that she knew he loved Lily, let alone had a close relationship with her.

Maybe she had conversations with Lily and she admitted to their close relationship. But he never told Lily about his true feelings for her, so it would be impossible that Hermione learned how deep his emotions ran from Lily. It was true that Hermione wasn't stupid. She might have pieced information together and figured it out, but it was near impossible that she could have discovered that with the small amount of time they spent together.

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint murmuring coming from the sofa in front of the fire. Severus set down the wash cloth he was using to wipe down th knives and utensils in the basin and made his way to where Hermione laid, wondering what was troubling her. He found her asleep, but it was obviously a restless sleep. She seemed to be having some sort of nightmare.

Most of the words were incoherent, but Severus managed to make out a few of them in between her audible groans. "Ronald…help…" she frantically whispered. "Don't kill…don't…" Severus found himself walking around the sofa to sit down by her feet, hoping his presence would stir her slumber, but her nightmare continued. "Take me…not…Harry…please…please."

_Ron? Harry? Who are these men?_ He mused, but continued to listen in, disgustingly enamored with the sleeping girl. He then shook his head. What kind of sick person listens to a sleeping woman's dreams? He quickly stood up, hoping that it would all soon subside without his interference, but then his conscience nagged at him.

_What kind of man would I be if I left her alone in such a state? At least give her something comforting! _He observed her form, seeing that an occasional shiver would wrack her delicate form. He rushed over to the corner and found a spare blanket he stored there, and then gently draped the burgundy fleece cover over the sleeping girl.

She immediately stirred, but didn't wake up. Rather, she sighed softly and curled up into the blanket, inhaling deeply, as if she were taken in by the scent. Severus was surprised by such a reaction, but was content that she was no longer whimpering. However, her next sleepy phrase made him snort with laughter.

"Thank you…Professor."

He quickly covered his mouth, hoping his outburst wouldn't wake her, but luckily for him, she just sighed, adjusted her position, and fell into a more peaceful sleep.

Severus rushed back to the bubbling cauldron, hoping that he didn't overheat the volatile substance, but his timer said there was two minutes left to spare. He exhaled gratefully, and got the blood and talon powder ready. He silenced the timer before it went off so it wouldn't wake Hermione. And as the hand landed on the zero, he immediately added the ingredients simultaneously. The potion bubbled and hissed furiously. Severus was anxious it was going to solidify like it did the previous day when Hermione interrupted him, but instead the liquid inside the cauldron turned into a deep, blood red.

He breathed another sigh of relief. He had never reached this point of the brewing stage. Adding a hemlock leaf one at a time, he stirred the potion five times clockwise, then two counter-clockwise.

"Okay, Severus. One final step," he muttered to himself. He turned off the heat from under the cauldron and drew his wand from the encasement in his shoe. "Here goes nothing. Merlin help me if I didn't get this right…"

He pointed his wand at the potion inside. "Crucio!" he whispered maliciously. A small jet of feeble light from his wand hit the potion, and nothing happened. He pursed his lips and tried again. Still, nothing.

"C'mon, you sodding elixir. Take the damn curse! Crucio! CRUCIO!" his frustrated voice cried in a louder voice.

"It won't work if you don't mean it," Hermione's voice interrupted, her usual sweet intelligent voice laced with coldness.

He was startled. Hermione was approaching him. He obviously had woken her up with his frustrated yells, and judging by the terseness in her voice, she was not happy. "Hermione, I didn't mean to wake you."

She walked straight up to where he was standing and ripped his wand out of his hand. "Well, you did. Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

She had no right to take his wand, nor was it any of her business what he was up to. "Experimenting."

Hermione placed a firm hand on her hip. "With the Cruciatus Curse. How lovely."

"Don't show disgust with me, woman. You apparently knew it wouldn't work unless I _meant _it."

"One would know if they were inflicted with the curse before," she replied haughtily. Severus gave her an inquiring look. "I know what you're up to, Snape. You're brewing for the Dark Lord."

He snatched his wand back from her. "So what if I am, Granger? What will you do about it?"

Hermione gave him a serious look. "Do not be fooled by his intentions, Severus. It will only harm you in the end."

Severus snorted. "What, now. Are you some kind of Seer? Have you been blessed with the Inner Eye?"

"I have a keen insight," she spat venomously.

"That's not viable proof, so if you don't mind, I'm going to risk my skin to complete my work, but thank you for your advice."

"Do not mock me. There's nothing glamorous about what you're doing. You're not saving lives. You're trying to destroy them."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Severus said, brushing her aside. "I'm only brewing the potion for someone, and after that it's out of my hands. I'm not planning on using it. That's up to them."

"You shouldn't give them the choice, Severus." Her brown eyes glittered pleadingly at him.

He closed his eyes and sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry, Hermione. But I myself haven't been given the choice to decline this project. It will be completed. End of story."

Her pleading eyes turned into ones of disbelief. "So that's it then? You're just going to sign your life away and not think twice about it?"

"I'm not signing my life away. I'm brewing a potion. Merlin, Hermione. Get a grip," Severus argued back.

Hermione finally lost it. "Get a grip? This isn't some classroom experiment, Snape! You are getting involved with something that's bigger than Hogwarts. You realize these people are actually killing others to make their point?"

"I assure you that this potion is not going to kill anyone."

"This one, no. But if this potion works, the chances of them asking you to brew a lethal poison will escalate. You can't deny that."

He rolled his eyes. "I have the situation under control."

She looked as if she was going to punch him. "You're a complete idiot to think that, Snape. They will tell you to brew whatever sodding potion or poison they need, and you'll do it because you are a spineless piece of work. You'll never stand on your own ground. You'll always kiss up to those with power. You're a…" she paused, giving him a smirk, "You're a bloody coward."

Suddenly, out of his control, he stabbed his wand into her throat. "Say that again, Granger." He glared at her, pure malice raging through his body, and he met her eyes.

For the first time, Severus saw loathing in those chocolate eyes. The usual softness had completely disappeared. "Coward," she whispered again, angry tears glittering her eyes.

He shoved her. Severus never resorted to physically show his anger at a woman, but she crossed the line. Calling him a coward when she had no knowledge of the situation and what pressures he faced from everyone. She was a nosy, ignorant chit of a woman, and maybe a hard shove would jostle her senses.

She stumbled backwards a few steps. Her expression was aghast and slightly shocked, not expecting Severus to be a person who would potentially assault a woman during an anger spell. "I'll see myself out, thanks," she spat. Tossing her hair, she marched toward the door and exited the room.

The door slammed violently shut, and Severus still had a firm grip on his wand. He was seething. His arm was shaking with anger. How dare she?

Severus turned back to the cauldron and envisioned Hermione's face in the potion's reflection. "You want me to mean it? Oh, I will make sure of it! CRUCIO!" And suddenly, a violent purple light was emitted from the cauldron where the curse struck it.

The power from the curse made the wall sconces die out. The purple light vanished as quickly as it came, but it was enough for the potion to mature. As Severus re-lit the torches with a flick of his wand, the completed potion was glittering dangerously in the confines of the silver cauldron. Hopefully it was what the Dark Lord wanted.


	13. Mr Belby's Research

_A/N: For your weekend enjoyment, here is chapter 13. Of course, it's posted later than expected. But I have a good reason! I had a little one-shot screaming to be let out, so I had that typed up and ready to go on Thursday. If you're bored, you should check it out. It's a SS/LEP story, so if you're into that, let me know what you think._

_I really hate snow, FYI. I just hope Punxy Phil tells us Spring is early on Wednesday. Please let me know what you think of this chapter, and have a most enjoyable weekend!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 13: MR. BELBY'S RESEARCH**

Hermione found herself sulking in the domitory the next few evenings instead of tracking down Severus. She wasn't going to try and approach Severus and apologize for her outburst. She thought her feelings that night were justified, and that he deserved all the cruelty and insult she threw at him for his apathetic attitude regarding his involvement with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. But as she lay in bed, Hermione knew she crossed the line calling him a coward.

If she didn't know what Severus was going to do in the future, what he was going to risk for the good of the entire wizarding world, she probably wouldn't have been suffering over what she said. It would be pointless banter, typical of an eighteen year old. But in complete honesty, what Severus was doing, brewing illicit substances for the leader of a Dark revolution was far from cowardly activity. It lacked moral implications, but no fearful person would attempt such a risky and demanding feat.

It wasn't too hard to avoid Severus. The only time she ran into him was her classes, and then she saw him from a distance during mealtimes, which never required a run in if either one of them timed their meals accordingly. But when she tried to look at him, each blatant attempt of Severus ignoring her presence intensified her guilt. If she didn't do anything about it soon, she would burst.

Somehow, she misplaced her Gryffindor courage. Hermione knew that Severus would not give her the pleasure of accepting her apology so quickly. Perhaps he would disregard it completely. She had to go in with a plan.

Severus wasn't her only problem. Sirius and the rest of the boys had yet to approach her about her interactions with "the wrong sort." Avoiding five people was taking a toll on her, and finally she gave in. It was no use trying to avoid her Housemates, unless she planned on hiding in her dormitory for the rest of her stay.

Sirius was the first to find her sitting defeatingly on the long sofa in front of the hearth. He let out a long sigh, gracious for the fact he was finally going to confront her on the Snape situation.

Before he could even begin, Hermione called out to him. "I give up, Sirius. Say what you need to say and we'll move on."

He sat down next to her. "I think you know my concerns, Hermione."

She rubbed her face exasperately. "Of course. You think that I'm some naïve chit of a witch who doesn't see Severus for his true colors, and that in the end he will hurt me in the worst possible way, and that I'll never recover."

Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well, I wasn't going to use such dramatic wording, but, yes, that's the general idea."

Hermione sighed and placed a comforting hand on Sirius's knee. "Black, I assure you Snape has not threatened any immediate harm on my part. And I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"Hermione, you don't know him like we do. He's all bad news. We suspect he's already joined the rebel ranks and is plotting the demise of the Ministry itself. He might try to recruit you into his plans, or maybe use you for your brains. Snape is the type of bloke who's so ambitious he's not going to let anyone get in the way of his goals, even if it means hurting the innocent."

Hermione chuckled somberly. "I am far from innocent. I've witness things that you wouldn't dream of happening in these very walls of the school." She sighed. "Plus, I know him better than you think. And, personally, I don't think you are one to pass judgment. You and Snape have more in common than you think, except he hurts those who _actually_ deserve it."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Snape _does _deserve everything that's coming to him. And I can't believe you'd actually defend that Dark Arts worshipping fool! Merlin, he's got you strung so badly he's playing you like a fiddle!"

Disgusted by his argument, Hermione made her way to move to the other side of the common room. "Here's the bottom line, Black. The only thing Snape has done to you over the past six and a half years was to be sorted into Slytherin House. That doesn't warrant years of ridicule. If you had any decency, you'd mind your own business and keep your opinions to yourself. People like you are the ones that drive brilliant men like Severus to their own demise, because you've already pegged them as criminals."

"You don't know half the things he and his gang have done to us," Sirius retorted back. "All the pain and anguish he caused Lily to endure, not to mention the indecency they place on some of us for not being pureblood. I'm _glad _I wasn't sorted in Slytherin. More than glad_. Elated_, in fact. I don't have to witness their abdominal behavior in regular intervals. The only thing I regret about not being in Slytherin is that I can't thrwart their plans before they put it in action."

"If you gave him a chance in the first place, there wouldn't be a need for this conversation. All this House rivalry and division makes me _sick. _There's absolutely nothing wrong with being in Slytherin and having ambition, just like there isn't anything wrong with being a brave and resilient Gryffindor. And it is alright to be _just friends_, okay? Nothing beyond that is going to happen. Severus and I are connected in unexplainable ways, and I'm afraid that you and the rest of your friends are just going to have to deal with it."

Sirius laughed. "Just friends? Oh give me a break, Hermione. That boy was looking way too comfortable with you to be only thinking platonic thoughts. And don't be daft enough to think that no one else has noticed. Sneaking around to the Room of Requirement like it's your personal flat? Lily's told us what Snape hides there. We haven't had the chance to break through his wards. You're going there to be with him, and people are starting to talk."

"Who I'm shagging or not shagging is none of your business, Black," Hermione retorted simply. Sirius's eyes widened in shock and his face paled. "Oh, for Merlin's sake. I'm not sleeping with him, so hold yourself together. We do potions research and medical experiments and just talk. There's nothing wrong with that."

"But…it might escalate into something else if you're not careful," Sirius responded, slightly relieved at the fact that Hermione didn't sleep with Severus. "I'm only looking out for you, Granger. I saw how badly he hurt Lily, and they didn't even date. If you and him…you know…"

Hermione was touched at his concern, and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "My emotions are otherwise engaged. Trust me. Snape can never get to me that way." _At least I can try to convince myself of that._

Sirius snorted. "Ha! Too true. I mean, look at the bloke. It looks like he got hit in the face with a troll's club. And he probably uses axel grease on his hair."

"Very mature, Sirius," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "If we're done, I need to get my homework finished." Homework was the only thing that could successfully distract her from thinking about her Snape problem and how she was going to win back his forgiveness.

Three hours later and all but one essay completed, Hermione set down her quill and massaged out her writers cramp. She still felt defeated. Between writing out the assignments and taking short breaks, nothing struck her as a good bargaining chip for Severus. How did she get herself into these messes?

Amidst her pondering, she didn't notice Remus sitting down next to her with a few of his own assignments. "Alright there, Hermione?" he asked politely.

He distracted her thoughts obviously. "Please don't lecture me. I already got it from Sirius and I know James has a couple things to say," she grunted.

Remus chuckled quietly. "On the contrary, I have enough to worry about, with my own schoolwork, prefect duties, those idiots I call my friends and…my mother's illness," he quickly added. Hermione knew he was referring to his lycanthropy. "You are entitled to your own choices, your own friends, and your own mistakes."

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "See? Why can't the others behave like that? I clearly know you don't approve of me interacting with Severus, but that's all you need to say and it's done. Life would be so much easier if everyone was like you."

Remus shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Of course. But they wouldn't be James and Sirius if they didn't nag you like a pair of old ladies carrying grocery bags."

Hermione laughed freely and heartily with Remus as he uncorked his bottle of ink and began his essays. Her heart went out to the sick man. He looked so worn, and yet he barely uttered a complaint. A wonderful person like him had to suffer monthly bouts of ferocity and pain as he feverishly tore at his own flesh to relieve the desire to attack others. It was a miracle that no one ever was maimed or killed during his career at Hogwarts. And now, his calm reaction to her decision about Severus was one she craved. She knew where he stood on the issues, but he wasn't going to force her to change her mind. More people needed to be like Remus.

"I wish I could help you," Hermione said sympathetically.

"Don't worry, Hermione. You have just as many assignments as I do. I'll manage."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I mean, I wish I could help your…mother."

Remus stopped writing and looked at her inquisitingly. "My mother?" he asked, confused. "Oh, yes. My mother."

"Because she's ill, and it would help you recuperate with everything going on," Hermione added.

"Yes," Remus replied awkwardly.

"And it wouldn't be as painful…" Hermione continued to prod Remus, trying to get him to realize she knew about his condition.

He furrowed his brow, slowly catching on to Hermione's point. "Hermione…"

"I know about it," she quickly whispered.

Remus's eyes widened with fright and anxiety. "Listen, it's not as bad as it seems. Just hear me out."

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No. Don't worry, Remus. I'm not going to tell anyone. You can count on me to keep your secret." She breathed a sigh of relief. "Goodness. It feels good to know I don't have to pretend about that anymore."

Remus gave her a curious expression. "How long have you known about me? Did James tell you?"

Tired of lying, Hermione decided it was best to be as honest as possible. "Actually, I figured it out myself."

Remus relaxed. "I guess it's not hard to miss the fact that I'm gone the days the moon waxes full." He slouched back into the chair with relief. "You truly are one hell of a witch, Hermione. But I don't think you can really cure this ailment."

Hermione frowned. "I know, I know. I just wish…" Suddenly, like a flash of light, Hermione came up with a solution to everything. Her face lit up with a wide smile. "I can still help you, even if I can't cure you."

A belittled look crossed over Remus's palored face. "Sorry?"

She bent in closer to the boy. "I know there's been a lot of research to treat your condition. We can easily brew the potion for you."

He shook his head. "Of course there have been studies to treat lycanthropy. But it hasn't been released to the public. As far as I know, the Wizarding Healers Council hasn't completed clinical trials yet. I just have to suffer through this until it's been approved."

Hermione sat back at the knowledge and thoughtfully tapped her chin. Of course the Wolfsbane Potion wouldn't be completed yet. It was twenty years in the past. She really had to stop thinking in the present time. But…she would know from her years of reading the basics of the procedure. All she really had to do was talk to Dumbledore. If anyone could pull some strings on the situation, it would be him.

She dug into the corners of her mind to try and remember who invented the potion so that Dumbledore could contact him for assistance. Back in her sixth year, Slughorn invited Marcus Belby to be a member of the Slug Club, and Hermione distinctly remembered he was the nephew of the potioneer.

"Dumbledore has to have contact with that potioneer, Remus. I mean, he did discover the twelve uses of dragon's blood. He probably had assistance with anyone involved with potions making." She furrowed her brow, deep in thought. Who was that bloody potioneer? Finally, it came to her. "Damocles Belby! Yes! That's him! He's doing the research for the Wolfsbane potion!"

Remus eyes went alight. "Of course! I recognize his name. If Dumbledore doesn't have contact with him, I'm sure Professor Slughorn still remains in correspondence. I mean, I've definitely heard him mention that name numerous times."

Hermione stood up and ruffled his hair. "I best be on my way, then. Wish me luck, Remus. It is, after all, for your health."

* * *

Dumbledore had to be omniscient. Not even a minute after Hermione arrived at the gargoyle marking the entrance to his office, he emerged from the steps, smiling gently at her and ushering her into the entrance. In a typical fashion, the old wizard offered her muggle sweets, which she declined politely. He asked her how classes were going for the term and other gentle conversation.

Finally, the Headmaster folded his hands across his desk. "I presume, Miss Granger, that you aren't simply here to discuss your schoolwork."

Hermione nodded. "Yes sir. I was only wondering whether you had contact with Mr. Damocles Belby. I hear he's doing research for a potion that is going to treat the symptoms of lycanthropy." She shifted uneasy in her seat under his scrutinizing gaze.

Dumbledore's eyes glittered. "Mr. Lupin has notified you of his condition?"

"Headmaster, you know where I come from. Remus was one of my teachers."

Dumbledore raised his hand to stop her speech. "Say no more, Miss Granger. We cannot divulge too much information. I am only asking if young Mr. Lupin knows of your knowledge of his condition presently."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir. He does."

"I see, I see," Dumbledore said, twisting the end of his beard thoughtfully. "Damocles is a colleague of Professor Slughorn and me. We both donate to his research and cause. May I ask why you are interested?"

Hermione shifted her gaze back to her lap. "Well, I was hoping, maybe…maybe we could brew it for Remus."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "That's a very dangerous suggestion. The potion has not been cleared by the Healers Council. It's a huge risk to administer such a power potion when it hasn't been successfully tested."

"That's because they are learning how it works. But remember, professor. I am from the future. As crazy as it sounds, I'm already familiar with the process. It's going to work."

He observed her with a pondering look. "I believe you, Miss Granger. However, we must be discrete." He drew up parchments and began to write fervently. "In fact, Damocles was inquiring on test subjects. Remus would be ideal. You can surely be Damocles's assistant in all of this."

"Sir, I was wondering if we can include Severus Snape on the team."

"You certainly are demanding a lot from me, Miss Granger," Dumbledore chuckled. "Very well. Mr. Snape is very competent at potions from what Professor Slughorn tells me. Shall you bear him the news?"

Hermione fiddled nervously with the hem of her blouse. "Sure…Well, thank you for this opportunity, Professor."

She stood up abruptly to leave, but not before Dumbledore stopped her. "How is the progress with Mr. Snape coming along?"

She froze midstride and turned to look at the old wizard curiously. "Did I ever mention Severus to you?"

His blue eyes sparkled. "I couldn't help but notice the vast amounts of time you have been spending with him, Miss Granger."

She sighed. "That may be true, sir. But I'm afraid the only thing I do is frustrate him. He still seems…well…enthusiastic to ruin his life." She sat back down in the chair in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"Bee in your bonnet, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked comfortingly.

Hermione looked up at him with a worried expression. "Honestly, professor, I think I made a terrible decision coming back here. I mean, everything happens for a reason, right? So who am I to try and stop it?" She ran a frustrated hand through her curls. "But then again, I care about his welfare. I'd be a terrible friend to just stand by and watch him throw his life away without trying to help him."

Dumbledore nodded with her assessment. "Yes. Sometimes our destinies are very difficult to make out. For instance, you chose to come back and change the outcome of your future. But who is to say that wasn't a part of your destiny to begin with?"

Hermione was dumbstruck with the philosophical talk. "I think I've finally found another subject that I will never fully grasp, alongside Divination."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, Divination and philosophy often time walk hand in hand."

Hermione smile graciously at her former Headmaster. "Thank you again, Professor. I feel a little better about everything. Will you let me know when Mr. Belby responds to our request?"

The old man smiled back at her. "Of course. Do say hello to Mr. Snape for me."

She left his office, his words about her destiny ringing loudly through her ears.

* * *

The best time to approach Severus was during mealtimes. Severus couldn't risk hexing her. He also couldn't risk avoiding her. Hermione wasn't planning on making a scene, but if it came down to desperate measures, she didn't know if anything else could work.

It was early enough the following morning at breakfast that she was sure she could approach Severus without confrontation from the rest of his friends. In fact, the Slytherin table was virtually empty. Severus never enjoyed the mulling crowd during mealtimes unless he was forced into it. Hermione knew she could find him.

Sure as it was day, Hermione found Severus sitting alone, reading the Daily Prophet and eating his breakfast. She walked briskly to the Slytherin table, and sat down confidently, folding her hands across the table as she stared at the man deftly trying to ignore her.

He finally glanced up and dramatically threw down the rest of his biscuit on his empty plate. "May I help you, Granger?"

"Actually, yes," she stated simply.

He furrowed his brow, obviously not expecting her to be so short. When she didn't continue, he rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this, Granger. Say it, or leave."

Hermione looked down at her clasped hands. "Well, it's more of a proposition. I feel awful about our row the other night, and I want to make it up to you."

She glanced up and she swore she saw a glimmer of curiosity in Severus's eyes, but that quickly was masked. "Go on," he said, pretending to be disinterested and taking a bite out of a piece of fruit.

"Medical research. For Damocles Belby. Very secretive and sensitive experiments," Hermione whispered.

Severus stopped chewing. "You're pulling my wand," he said in disbelief.

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "No. Dumbledore is drawing up the papers."

The corner of Severus's mouth quirked in anticipation. "What would the team be researching?" he asked in interest.

She didn't respond at first. He wasn't daft. Severus would know her true motives once he heard the truth, but it was unavoidable. "Belby is researching different treatments for Lycanthropy."

Snape narrowed his eyes and his expression of excitement fell. "No."

Hermione gave him a pleading look. "C'mon, Sev. This is an opportunity of a lifetime."

"You aren't doing this as recompense for me," he spat. "You're doing this for your furry little friend. I refuse to be a part of it. I refuse to help that monster!"

Hermione was beginning to feel frustrated. "What has he ever done to warrant such disdainful feelings from you?"

Severus smirked and shook his head. "Are you kidding me? That…_thing_ and his friends ruined everything. They are the primary reason why I'm not Head Boy this year!"

Hermione was about to launch into a long diatribe about his irrationality, when suddenly, she understood. _The Whomping Willow Incident,_ she mused inwardly.

Her face expressed her sympathy, and all Severus could do was snort. "Don't act like you know the story, Granger. Your pity will not change my mind. The answer is no." With that, he stood up to leave the table, but Hermione couldn't help but notice he was getting up rather gingerly, like he had recently sustained serious injury.

She curiously watched him hobble out of the Great Hall, gently biting her lower lip. Perhaps he needed some time to think it over. Severus was definitely conflicted with the idea of the project. His brilliant mind was practically urging him to do the research, but his own stubborn nature would sooner poison Remus than treat his condition. Still, Hermione would convince him to work with her on the potion if it was the last thing she would do.

Hermione exhaled and got up to follow him. Her pace was quick, hoping that he hadn't gone too far. She finally saw him heading down the steps towards the dungeons. But just as she arrive to the top step, she felt hands on her shoulders pulling her back, and she groaned when she recognized the voices.

"Padfoot, I think we've been lousy friends," James's voice rang in her ears.

"Agreed, Prongs. We've probably neglected her to the point she's resorting to dungeon bats for company."

Hermione sighed. "Boys, will you please just this once leave me be?"

James pulled Hermione out of Sirius's grasp. "We are just trying to protect you. You don't know the things Snape is capable of. I've witnessed it. We are in treacherous times and I wouldn't be doing my job as Head Boy if I let you get into a messy situation."

"Are you calling me naïve and incompetent?" she glared at James threateningly.

"You don't know Snape," he repeated again in all seriousness.

"Well, you don't know me, so stop pretending you do," she whispered menacingly.

Her war instincts knew Sirius was up to something while he was standing behind her. As soon as she heard him rustling, Hermione quickly spun around and flourished her wand. Sirius yelped and covered his face. James, on the other hand was trying to restrain her from doing anymore damage. With her arms pinned behind her, Hermione couldn't use her wand. She resorted to a more traditional tactic on James and kicked him hard in the shins.

Immediately, he let go of her as massaged his legs. "Blimey, Hermione. What was that for?"

"For trying to control my every aspect of life, Potter!" She yelled. "I'm fully capable of protecting myself, and you have no right in telling me who I can and cannot spend my time with! Let this be a lesson for you!" Hermione pocketed her wand and furiously straightened out her robes while she headed back to the steps to try and find Snape.

However, he wasn't too difficult to find. Severus must had heard the scuffle from halfway down the stairs and doubled back to witness the commotion. He was standing on the top step leading to the dungeons, arms folded and his weight leaning against the wall. On his face was a bemused expression.

"Very impressive," he spoke, humor etched in his voice.

Hermione pushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "Thank you," she said tersely.

Severus straightened up and approached her. "I didn't recognize the hex you placed on Black."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. "Bat-Bogey Hex." Of course he wouldn't recognize it. It wouldn't be invented in a few years time.

"Is that your own creation?" he asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head vehemently. "Unfortunately, no. But it's quite brilliant. My fiancee's sister was an expert at it."

Severus nodded slowly. "Brilliant. You might have to instruct me on it," he said in complete honesty. After he looked over her shoulder to see if the other Gryffindors cleared out, he motioned her to follow him down the stairs. Despite his obvious contentment to the prior situation, he couldn't mask the physical pain he was in.

"What ails you so, Severus?" Hermione asked after a wince made him almost lose his footing.

"Never you mind, Granger," he said to brush her off. "So, when do we start?"

This took Hermione by surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Belby's research. When do we start?"

A smile threatened to creep up on her face. "You mean, you accept my offer?"

"I might change my mind again if you continue to ask stupid questions," he retorted.

Hermione laughed. "Oh Severus. So typical of you." The glare he rewarded her only bated her amusement more, and she began giggling hysterically. She hadn't laughed like that in ages, it seemed. And the warmth only spread more when she noticed a small amused expression on Severus's face, threatening to transform into something more.

"Are you finished?" he asked, his serious facade being betrayed by the playful glitter in his dark eyes.

"Quite," she said smiling. "Oh, and I'll let you know when we'll start as soon as Dumbledore gets word from Mr. Belby."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Expect that to take ages. Like the Headmaster is going to priorities a student's potion's research over everything else he has to do. Which involves kissing up to old blokes with mountains of galleons."

Hermione tutted sarcastically. "Oh ye of little faith," she teased, turning back up the stairs. "I'll see you in class!"

Severus snorted. "Like I'm looking forward to it."

Hermione smiled inwardly. As much as he tried to pretend to hate the idea, she knew he definitely was.


	14. Trial and Error

_A/N: I didn't feel like working on school papers and boring textbook reads, so instead I wrote this chapter in a few hours and I'll read my Kobo once it is posted. Or watch Groundhog's Day. :) __A few random facts about this chapter. One, I actually did look up the full moon cycle of 1977, and it did happen on Christmas. Yayyy research. Anyways, I hate job searching, and I hope I find one soon that's not sales. And I think I've mentioned before how much I hate winter, right? _

_I didn't? Oh, okay. I hate winter. Hooray for early spring! Everyone's responses have been fabulous. I am overwhelmed and I appreciate the enthusiasm. Please keep the e-mail alerts and reviews coming. It will make me happy. Have a great rest of the week!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 14: TRIAL AND ERROR**

Sure enough, Hermione received two letters a few days after she spoke with the Headmaster. One letter stated that Damocles approved of the research team and their test subject, and the other was from Mr. Belby himself, stating he would like an audience with the two students, the test subject, and Professor Slughorn who would be their advisor on the project.

It was the most awkward meeting Hermione had ever witnessed, mostly because Severus and Remus were stuck in the same room for such a long period of time. Severus tried to pretend the Gryffindor werewolf was not at all involved with the project, and then when Remus managed to make eye contact with him, Severus had an expression of distaste on his face, as if a stinkbomb went off in the vicinity.

Hermione was pressured to play a double ally to both Remus and Severus. Remus was apprehensive about the prospects of ingesting a lethal substance. Severus was angered about helping a sick student he hated. Between the daggers Severus sent her for being nice to the sick teen and the pleading gaze from Remus to get him out of the situation, Hermione was at her wit's end.

Belby caught a few of Hermione's eye rolls and felt the tension in the room as he explained the project. He looked up at Professor Slughorn with disgust on his face "I say, Horace. Are these students mature enough to work with such an important project?" Belby snapped after Severus shot another cold glare at the werewolf.

"I must apologize for their behavior, sir," Hermione interrupted Slughorn before he could make an excuse, an air of impatience in her voice. "See, at Hogwarts, there are petty inter-house rivalries occurring. Severus here loathes Remus for being Gryffindor, and Remus fears his life because he thinks Severus will poison him with the potion."

This only made Damocles's face turn a deeper crimson. "Well, I see you three fail to see the severity and importance of this research." He closed his briefcase with a snap and rose up from his seat. "I shall waste no more of your time."

"No wait, sir," Severus stood up abruptly. "Please, do not doubt my abilities. I promise you, I am adept enough to help you with your work. It will be more of a challenge to set aside my differences with…with Mr. Lupin, but I will try my best to be as professional as possible."

Belby seemed reluctant to listen to Severus, but he exhaled in defeat. "Mr. Snape, Professors Dumbledore and Slughorn have notified me that it is your wish to continue a career in medical research and healing after Hogwarts. Is this correct?" Severus silently nodded. "Good," Belby continued. "However, you must realize that your research will have a purpose to _treat_ ailing patients. To find solutions, not just answer questions. You will be treating people you care for: Mothers, fathers, cousins, and friends. But remember, you will treat those you have grievances against with the same attention and respect as those you love! There is no room for aggression and bias when it comes to life or death. Please be aware of that in the future."

Hermione noted a slight tinge of red appearing on Severus's cheeks as he looked down and responded, "I will, sir," in a quiet, disheartened voice.

"I trust his abilities, Mr. Belby," Hermione stated with assurance.

"Me too," whispered Remus.

Severus was taken aback at his pronouncement. Remus caught his bewildered expression and chuckled. "Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I can't admit when you have a brilliant skill, Severus."

Severus still looked at the werewolf as if he sprouted an extra head. "Thank you, Remus," he managed to speak.

Belby stared from one male teen to the other and finally shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's a start."

He passed to the group confidentiality agreements, which they all signed willingly. As he gathered the parchment, he outlined the final plan to the students.

"Mr. Lupin, I understand the full moon wanes in a few days. We obviously will not have completed the trials by then, but if you give me a sample of your blood, we may be able to have the first round completed by December's cycle, which incidentally falls on Christmas. And we must discuss your compensation."

Remus nodded. Belby notified Severus and Hermione to report to the dungeons the next day to start the work. He then dismissed them, so they left silently, allowing the Healer and Slughorn to discuss business with the werewolf.

Hermione bit her lip to stop her smile from spreading as she watched Severus walk next to her. He had a distinct spring in his step and his eyes were twinkling with excitement.

"You're really looking forward to all of this. Even though it means helping one of your worst enemies," she stated, no longer hiding her glee at his pleasant disposition. She even caught sight of one of the corners of his mouth twitch, as if it was threatening to smile. Hermione couldn't explain why such a vision would make her stomach flip in giddiness.

They stopped walking as they passed an open courtyard. The November chill was in the air, but that didn't deter Severus from entering the brisk breeze. He sat down on a stone bench and patted to the vacant seat next to him, which she accepted. "You have no idea, Hermione," he said, whispered excitement etched in his voice.

Hermione was mesmerized with the pure joy written all over Severus's face. He didn't outright smile, but something about the softness in his jaw, the eager glimmer in his dark eyes, the corner of his mouth threatening to finally rebel from his usual calm reserve made it obvious. It was simply Severus. And yet, beautiful in its own special way.

She saw pure passion in those features. Potions and research were his one true love. Hermione wondered if that expression was ever on his face when he loved Lily…before they ended their relationship. It was understandable why his work would give him such bliss. It could never betray him or break his heart.

"Do you know what this means for us?" he whispered. "We are making history right now. I am not one to parade for equal rights, but decades from now…" he sighed happily.

Hermione smiled gently. "I know, Sev. Lycanthropy will only be a disease. Werewolves will be able to function in society like normal witches and wizards. You are giving so many people chances for a real future. That's really something."

She didn't know what possessed her, but she was caught in the moment. Out of her own accord, Hermione's arm reached over for Severus. And before she knew it, his hand was in hers.

Hermione caught Severus by surprise for sure. As quickly as she touched him, his eyes flashed to where her thumb gently caressed the back of his hand, and his gaze softened. Hermione's, on the other hand, never left his face. A part of her was cursing herself inwardly for being so rash and bold, but the other part betrayed her rational thought. She needed to see how he would react with her contact.

Suddenly, Hermione felt him withdraw his hand. Just before her heart plummeted, thinking he was going to pull away, he adjusted their position. A slightly calloused palm was turned up against her soft, chilled one, and she felt five long and gentle fingers intertwine with hers. And then, her heart fluttered, for she felt his thumb swirling gently on the back of her hand. Severus returned her caress.

In all of the time she spent with Ron, Viktor, or any of her other suitors, Hermione had never experienced such an intimate encounter, and it was only the simple act of hold his hand. Her breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, and to her surprise, he finally smiled.

No, it wasn't a toothy grin, or one that took over half his aristocratic face. Simply, the corners of his mouth finally relented, and they upturned. It was soft, just like the touch on the back of her hand. She heard him sigh contently. His expressions were changing so quickly Hermione couldn't keep up with them. She saw surprise, inquiry, curiosity and finally, wonder, like his eyes had open up, like he never saw this woman sitting next to him before.

Hermione felt vulnerable and exposed under his profound gaze. And yet, she was enveloped in the moment. That afternoon, unbeknownst to the two students sitting in that courtyard in the cold November air, a door had opened to them. One that held endless possibilities for the both of them if they remained hand in hand and crossed that threshold together. It was as if this open door was presenting itself right in front of them, and both of them shared that vision through their gentle touch. Nothing else could explain that curiosity in Severus's gleam.

But like a tickle in the back of her mind, a voice echoed fervently. It tried to bring Hermione back to reality, but she wouldn't relent, lost in everything that was around her.

_Hermione…don't forget…Ron….Ronald….RONALD!_

Like a flash, her conscience screamed the name of her precious fiancée, _ex-fiancée,_ and her hand was out of his, as if it had burned her. Hermione stiffened and looked away. She didn't want to see his reaction to her abrupt behavior, her flat out rejection to what had just happened.

None of them said anything for five very long minutes. She rubbed her palm against the coarse wool of her cloak, trying to rid the tingle Severus left there moments before to no avail.

"Anyways…" she heard his voice interrupt her thoughts. Hermione hoped that her paranoia and discomfort helped her imagine the slight dismay in his timbre.

"Tomorrow," she said quietly, standing up and wrapping her arms around herself for comfort.

"Dungeons," he responded, remaining on the bench.

Hermione nodded and bid farewell to the Slytherin, her feet reluctantly drawing her away from that fated courtyard. Her heart was aching in ways she never thought it could. It was a waste to deny it anymore. Perhaps there were some excuses she could use to justify her admiration for her adult professor, but she was only kidding herself now. Involving herself one-on-one with him as an equal had made Hermione emotionally attached to Severus Snape. She could only hope her emotions would not betray her secret.

* * *

It was obvious for the next few days during work sessions that Severus was being particularly distant with Hermione. If he spoke to her, it was only to get her input about additions and subtractions of ingredients to the preliminary formula Belby had drawn up. Hermione even noted, to her dismay, that he made a determined effort not to have physical contact with her as the sessions went by.

Remus was "out sick" towards the end of the week, and Belby had called it a day early. That did not deter Severus from working on the project. In fact, since she met Severus, Hermione noticed he worked more diligently when he was extremely angry.

Judging by his work ethic, Hermione didn't think he was ever as angry as he was that day.

"Severus," Hermione approached him hesitantly. "Is there something wrong?"

"Is there something wrong?" he mimicked her concern in a mocking tone. "Shut up and do your work."

She was going to take none of his attitude. "What's got your wand in a knot?"

As he slammed down his knife, for the first time in a long time, Hermione was frightened at Severus Snape. The glare she received was full of malice and frustration. It took all of her strength not to resort to her former behavior of cowering student, because she saw so much of her professor in that expression.

But then she realized he wasn't her professor…yet. She could fight back. Or at least, not falter under his pressure. Her final decision was to let him fester in his anger. As long as he wasn't forcing it on her, he would eventually get over his little temper tantrum. But when Hermione saw him shred the aconite into haphazard microscopic mush, she had to stop him from destroying the entire test potion.

"Do you want to jeopardize the entire project, you git?" she snapped at him, latching at his wrist to halt his mutilation of the plant. "What kind of potioneer are you?"

"Don't you be lecturing on me about potions making. I've done more research and created more elixirs than you ever will in your lifetime! And my creations are of substantive value!"

Something in the tone of his voice made it seem like he was trying to convince himself of his own skills. "You say that like you aren't quite sure of yourself," she said smugly.

Severus opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind. Hermione could tell he was torn between slicing her throat with the knife in his hand or telling her everything. Hopefully he would resort to the latter. She loosened her grip on his wrist. It was trembling, for what reasons Hermione didn't know. But it was important he talked to someone about what was bothering him.

"Is there anyone you want to talk to this about? Maybe Dumbledore?" she suggested softly.

Severus snorted and sunk down onto a nearby stool. "Like hell I'll ever tell him anything."

Hermione dragged a stool over to where he sat. "How about another Slytherin?"

"Black knows. Reg, I mean. He only reiterates what I know," Severus said somberly.

Silence hung in the air. "Well…" Hermione hesitated. "I might be able to help. It's the least I can do. You listened to me when I talked about my ex…"

Severus kept his eyes closed and sighed. "My potion was…rejected."

It took a while for Hermione to realize which potion he was referring to. "Oh, you mean your "special project." The…the Cruciatus Potion." Severus managed to nod in response.

"Were you punished?" Hermione asked fearfully.

Severus gave a somber laugh. "No. In fact, he praised my work. But he wants something more painful. Something so powerful, so disturbing, that…that will make a victim beg for release…"

Hermione was shocked at what she heard, at a loss to words. Severus, on the other hand, was a dialogue fountain.

"He called it _satisfactory. _Satisfactory! I was requested to craft an elixir that would cause excruciating pain to the person who dared to consume it. That's what I created. My time, my efforts, my sweat, and my blood went into that research. Do you know how frustrating it is to brew and test a powerful elixir that actually _works? _If he's so brilliant, he should create his own! But no, he tells me to go back to the drawing board!"

"So it did work?" Hermione asked haughtily.

Severus rewarded her with a pompous glare. "Of course it worked. Do you think I'm daft enough to offer a potion with unknown affects to the Dark Lord? I tested it."

"On whom?"

Severus ignored her and began chopping up the already unusable mutilated aconite. She grasped his wrist once more. "On whom, Severus?" she commanded.

Severus pursed his lips as he turned to face her. "Well, you couldn't have expected me to hire a test subject on such a secretive project, could you?"

Her jaw dropped. "You tested it on _yourself_? Please tell me someone was here to assist you from completely going mad."

He stirred the cauldron apathetically. "Once again, secrecy. I told Reg, but he must have forgotten."

"You're completely mental!" Hermione screamed. "Did it even cross your brilliant mind that you could have poisoned yourself? Or hurt yourself irreparably?" It now explained his limp and discomfort from the past few days.

"Since it is obvious to the average wizard that I am, in fact, unmistakably alive, and the potion worked perfectly, there's nothing really else to say, so you can stop your incessant mothering," he spat.

"You're unbelievable!" Hermione stalked off to the other table to gather the rest of her belongings. She was so furious with Severus she didn't know how much longer she could take with him. "Next time you decide to brew and test an illicit substance, make sure I'm there so I can kill you before you kill yourself!" She stormed out of the room.

Hermione and Severus were not on speaking terms after their argument. Luckily, Remus recovered from his latest transformation and was bridging their gap as they went into the months of December. There was a silver lining to their breached communication, at least for Severus. With his full concentration on their work, Belby was very impressed with the successful minor tests they performed on the potion. So much, in fact, that he offered to write a letter of recommendation to St. Mungo's Research Center.

However, the more praise Severus received, the more haggard he looked. Judging by his appearance, Hermione didn't think he had slept properly in days. In the back of her mind, she knew he was working on the replacement potion for Voldemort, and she dreaded his results.

One afternoon, Belby dismissed the group early, over the fact Severus had fallen asleep against the work table. Despite the young Slytherin's insistence on continuing the work, Belby escorted him back to his dormitory so he could rest properly. This left a much needed free afternoon for Hermione and Remus.

Stray flurries were flying through the air as Hermione and Remus took a walk around the grounds. A lot was on her mind and she believed the Gryffindor prefect to be a fair listener to her concerns. Of course, they reached the subject of Severus.

"I can't help but notice," Remus began, "That you and Severus aren't on speaking terms anymore." Hermione's silence only confirmed her uneasiness of the situation. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Hermione sighed and slowed down her walking pace. "It'll be fine. Sev just likes to test illicit and unknown substances on himself without anyone present."

Remus raised his eyes in disbelief. "He's that careless?"

She shrugged. "I guess. Or he has one hell of a death wish. I just don't understand it. He could trust me. Maybe I've been too hard on him…"

The silence hung thick in the air. Remus sighed. "What you have to understand Hermione, is that Severus isn't one to remain close to someone for a long time. I'm sure you heard all about his fall out with Lily." Hermione nodded and he continued. "You see, it's not like he's incapable of being in a close relationship. It's more like he finds a reason to hate someone, superficial or legitimate, and he convinces himself the friendship must end."

Remus had a disgruntled and frustrated look on his face. Hermione frowned. "What happened last year that made him loathe you?" she asked hesitantly.

Lupin chuckled somberly. "Well, it wasn't entirely my fault. Sirius thought it would be funny to have Severus try and figure out my secret." He sighed. "It was only a matter of time before Snape figured everything out, and you know just as well as me that he'd tell the entire school I was a werewolf. The month before, he followed Trammell and me out to the Whomping Willow, and when I fell ill the next month, he couldn't pass the chance to tail me."

He kicked a stone lying on the path, his hand dug deep into his pockets. "Needless to say, Sirius stoked his curiosity even more by convincing him all he had to do was prod the giant knot in the tree with a long branch to immobilize it. James found out, though."

Hermione swallowed. "Did he do anything about it?"

"Well, not at first. I mean, it was a bit humorous to think an arrogant student could render a killer tree motionless with a simple twig. We never actually think he'd go through with it, though. Severus was a git, but he wasn't stupid." His face fell. "When Lily found out what Sirius did, she panicked. I never saw her so upset, not even after her OWLS. She almost approached Severus to convince him not to do it, but they weren't talking anymore. It wouldn't have helped."

"But James finally did see the light and saved him," Hermione finished for him.

He nodded weakly. "Not until after a few good smacks from the tree. I actually almost got him as well…"

Her heart went out to him. He truly was pained for that night. "It was out of your control, Remus. Don't blame yourself," Hermione said comfortingly.

He shrugged his shoulders apathetically. "That's life, Hermione. I'm a monster, and every month I risk of transferring the disease to anyone nearby."

"You're no monster," she retorted passionately. "You're a wonderful, brilliant wizard who is only crippled by an illness. And once we finished with the Wolfsbane Potion, you can live a normal successful life. You'll see."

Remus smiled and pulled her into a hug. "Thanks, Hermione. You and Severus…well…I owe you my life."

She smiled against his chest. "I'll be sure to remember that," she teased. "Just one more thing. Did James save Severus out of guilt, or did he really want to rescue him?"

Remus was silent, thinking over her question. Finally he sighed resolutely. "James and Severus hate each other. I don't speak for Severus, but I know James, and he would never have a death wish on anyone, even Severus. And we both know James isn't cowardly. If he really wanted to harm Severus, he wouldn't have stopped Sirius." Remus responded confidently.

Hermione sunk back into his warm embrace. "I knew it," she whispered happily. Remus gave her an inquiring look. "Never mind, Remus. Let's just go back to the castle."

A part of Hermione was feeling better about the situation. For one, she knew James never wanted Severus dead. Somehow…one day…she would convince him of this fact. But the only way she could do this is if he stopped pushing her away. Remus couldn't be right about Severus, right?

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_A/N: The hand holding scene was inspired by my first hand-holding encounter with my boyfriend. Something so simple can mean so much. I love you, Bailey. :)_


	15. Off Her Broomstick

_A/N: I know I said I was posting Thursday or Friday, but after I finished this portion of the chapter, I still wanted another section to include with it. But if I wrote it, I'd miss my deadline, so I stopped the chapter right here. It works, at least. I'm going on vacation next week(hence why I have a bunch of school work to do; I'm missing a day of classes and I had things due on that day...naturally) and I wouldn't dare leave you without an update for a whole week. I'll try to post ch 16 before I leave, but I'm not making any promises. :-/_

_Next chapter will be one of those exceptions where it will be from Severus's mindset. You'll see why. As always, leave me your feedback. It's important to me. Have a great week!

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**CHAPTER 15: OFF HER BROOMSTICK**

The Christmas season at Hogwarts in 1977, to Hermione's surprise, was not unlike the season when she attended school. The Great Hall was decorated with vast amounts of trees carried in by a younger Hagrid, and Flitwick was ceremoniously stringing fairy lights all around the boughs. Dumbledore's wardrobe was reflecting the season, and the joyful tingle of sleigh bells were chiming all throughout the air. The atmosphere was contagious…for the majority of the student body.

Severus, of course, had to find ways to be annoyed at the festive season. He grumbled during the research hours when Remus and Hermione began singing renditions of "Holly the Christmas House Elf" at the top of their lungs.

"Honestly, if it wasn't for me, the two of you would still be drawing on cave walls and grunting! And Lupin, learn how to sing in key." he snapped after the other two Gryffindors busted into a fit of giggles after Holly's attempt of a levitating charm ended up placing a sprig of mistletoe permanently over Santa's head.

"Oh lighten up, Sev," Hermione chuckled. "Where is your Christmas spirit?" He glared at her contempt, which only made her laugh harder. "Looks like we have a modern day Scrooge on our hands!"

Hermione swore she saw his lip quiver. "Bah, humbug," he muttered as he returned to shredding the rest of his monkshood.

She was taken aback at his familiarity of _A Christmas Carol_. "You've read Charles Dickens?'

Severus looked up from his work with an annoyed look. "Well, I am Half-Blood, aren't I?"

"Oh. Right."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Remus chimed in. "Same with muggleborn, half giant, or half-human-half-beast."

"Here here!" Hermione agreed.

The three of them set aside their tools to have a tea break. It was strangely pleasant, especially because Remus and Severus were being quite…civil. Snide jokes regarding Slytherin and Gryffindor differences were thrown back and forth, not to mention the occasion 'wild beast' comment coming from Severus. A few bouts of laughter ensued for the three of them as well. It was as if they all were…_friends._ Of course, it was too much for Severus to make a social encounter entirely pleasant.

"So Hermione," Severus changed the subject, "What is your blood background?"

Hermione wasn't expecting this line of questioning. She sputtered and choked on her tea. "Excuse me?"

"Well, seeing that I've talked about my family line, and Remus is quite obvious half a beast, I think it is only fair that you tell us your history," he stated simply.

"Severus," Remus warned.

"No, Remus. I think it's interesting to see where we've come from. A lot of our habits are developed from our family lines. Go on, Hermione." Severus's eyes glittered dangerously.

Hermione stared down at the Slytherin with contempt, but she didn't respond immediately. She sipped solemnly at her tea to gather her composure. "Well, _Half-Blood Prince_, I personally don't think it's any of your business."

Remus was sandwiched between the two of them. His gaze switched awkwardly from the Gryffindor to the Slytherin. "Well, I think this is my invitation to leave. I'll see you two tomorrow." He stood up abruptly and left the dungeons as quick as he could.

Hermione shook he head in astonishment. "I swear, at the first test of Gryffindor bravery, that werewolf fails beyond belief!"

She turned her head away from the door to see that Severus was still glaring at her. "Don't change the subject," he whispered.

Hermione exhaled in astonishment. "Of all things you'd care about, I thought blood status would be one that wouldn't matter. Will anything change about me if you know? Will I be any less smart, or haughty, or stubborn?"

Severus's mouth was a thin line on his face. "It would explain a lot about your efforts. The way you think. The things that make you tick. Plus, I think I have a right to know, after I covered for you at dinner, Miss Prewett."

This time, Hermione stood her ground. "I shouldn't have to prove my abilities by showing my family tree, Severus. No one should. I mean, look at you. You're half blood, and you are smarter than some of the professors! And then there are people like Crabbe and Goyle, purebloods, who are completed dimwits. I'm surprised they know how to tie their own shoes! I mean, don't you ever get sick of having to prove yourself just because your dad's a muggle?"

"Can you please leave?" Severus asked shortly.

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Where did that come from?"

It was taking all of Severus's patience not to shout. "The only thing I'm really sick of right now is you."

Hermione looked aghast. "What did I do?" she asked hotly.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hermione, every other word coming out of your mouth is a blatant lie. And now, you're purposely withholding information from me. You're a conniving sneak who's nothing but a hypocrite. What kind of witch goes on her soap box, preaching about blood status equality when she herself doesn't reveal her own? What kind of witch denounces the Dark Arts, when she is a fugitive for casting an Unforgivable? Only a hypocrite! Personally, if I were a complete arse, I'd turn you into the Ministry and have them send you to Azkaban. You'd finally be out of my hair!"

The words stabbed at Hermione. "You don't mean that," she frowned.

Severus slammed a fist down. "Damn it, Hermione. Do you think I'm playing around? Either you tell me everything I ask or you leave me alone. Either you trust me or you don't. You can't have it both ways!"

The raw passionate anger in Severus's eyes was alarming. Never had his defenses faltered as much as they did now, especially when he talked about trust. He had a valid point. Hermione's trust in Severus was instigated from all her time at Hogwarts. Although it was a naïve stupid notion, she couldn't shake that deep inherit belief that he would do everything to protect her and her cause…whatever that was at the moment. He proved it this decade with the encounter at dinner, and he would in the future as well. But to continued to believe this was completely irrational. Severus wouldn't meet her until after he was Branded, after he turned back to Dumbledore, and after she started school…he didn't even know her!

Hermione sighed in defeat, and looked up at Severus with as much compassion as possible. "You're right, Severus. You're absolutely right. How can I say I trust you and yet not tell you the truth?"

At her admission, Severus's shoulder relaxed a little and his anger resided. "Are you going to rectify the situation then?"

She looked at him sympathetically and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Severus. I can't."

"Well why the bloody hell not?" he snapped angrily, clenching his hands into fists.

She didn't respond immediately. "Severus, some things are better left for the test of time." He looked at her as if she was insane. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. But I promise, one day you'll fully understand why. And you'll know the whole truth."

Severus was clenching his jaw, his knuckles turning white while he tried to withhold striking at Hermione. "How much does this have to do with you situation at the Ministry?" he managed to ask calmly.

"Honestly, regarding you, practically none."

He narrowed his eyes. "So it's for completely outside reasons that you are lying to me. It has nothing to do with self incrimination. You're not trying to protect yourself from me."

One side of Hermione's mouth turned up in half a smile. "No, I'm not. I'm actually protecting _you_ from _me._ If you know the truth right now, well, it would be catastrophic."

He snorted. "And melodramatic." He sighed and stood up, gathering his cloak and belongings. "For now, I'll drop it. I don't feel like giving myself a headache. But don't doubt I won't keep prying. It involves me and I have a right to know. Will you at least promise to tell me eventually?"

Hermione followed his lead. "I promise you'll _learn_ the truth. Perhaps not all at once, and not all from me, either. But…you'll know."

He stared down at her and sighed. "Alright, then. Let's get you back to Gryffindor Tower."

They walked in silence, the argument hanging heavily in their minds. She knew Severus felt betrayed in her presence. But how was she to tell him she knew his future, and that she was trying to manipulate his life choices? It wouldn't bode very well.

"At least tell me your blood status," he casually mentioned, trying to catch her off guard.

She laughed at his attempt of not caring. "Oh come off it, Sev. I said I wouldn't tell."

"You owe me!"

"I don't owe you anything, you slimy git."

"You're one to talk, frizzle."

"Ooh, making comments about my hair, are we? Look in the mirror, grease ball." She knew his retorts and insults were playful banter. It was reassuring that the playful glimmer was back in his eyes.

Severus was about to continue when he heard giggling from across the corridor. They both were distracted by the pair of voices, and judging by the tonality of the couple, they certainly were about to witness behavior that would be frowned upon in public.

"Quick! Over here," Severus whispered as he frantically dragged Hermione into a dark corner.

The two of them huddled together in the secluded niche until the couple passed. But what they witnessed completely caught them by surprise.

"James, no! I'm Head Girl. I have a name to live up to. I can't just unlock an empty classroom."

"You can't, or you won't, Lils?" James teased.

Next to Hermione, she felt Severus stiffen harshly. She swore she thought his breathing increased, and the grip on her wrist tightened immediately.

"_Won't,_ Head Boy," Lily giggled. "Honestly, you'd think you'd have more class." Hermione then saw James lead Lily to the nearest wall, where they began to engage in a passionate kiss.

"And an empty corridor is classier?" Hermione heard James ask Lily breathlessly.

"Shut your sodding mouth," Lily replied as she pulled James's lips to hers once more.

Severus began trembling. Hermione didn't know whether in anger or devastation. From behind her, she felt Severus arm move above her. She saw it was holding his wand.

"Severus, don't!" Hermione whispered in a panic, but he didn't listen. A black smoke emitted from his wand and consumed the torches in the corridor and the glass windows. Suddenly, the flames went out and the thick smoke created a barrier blocking the moonlight from shining through the corridor. The hallway was dark as death.

Although he was responsible for the current situation surrounding them, Hermione couldn't help cowering closer to Severus for protection. When he lowered his wand, she expected him to gather his composure. Instead, a jab on the ground sent something hissing around Hermione's feet. She tried squealing but Severus took his free hand and covered her mouth, holding her back pressed against his chest.

"James, what's going on?" A frantic Lily whispered, frightened by the sudden darkness.

"Shh, love," James said while lighting his wand. He held the feeble light all around him, searching for the culprit. Suddenly, he jumped back at the sight of a large snake slithering toward the couple.

"Bloody hell!" he shrieked, protecting Lily from the vestige of the serpent. Trying not to provoke the creature, James tried to dodge the snake to no avail. It just mirrored his every movement. "_Depulso!" _James cried, finally sending the provoked serpent crashing into the opposite wall.

From the poor light of the wands, Hermione saw Lily scramble up, taking a hold of James's outstretched hand. They bolted down the corridor blindly, shrieking every so often when they lost their footing. The serpent remained a bit dozed from the hit, sputtering angrily.

Severus remained rigid behind Hermione. She could literally feel the anger flow out of him. She gently pried his hand that was covering her mouth and managed to gather the courage to turn and face him. Her heart broke when she saw his face. It was void of any kind of emotion, which frightened Hermione to no end.

He moved her aside and flourished his wand. The lighting of the corridor returned back to normal as he approached the snake and vanished it from the spot. Neither of them dared to speak, but neither of them began moving back toward the Gryffindor Tower. Severus was staring blankly out the window, his jaw clenching.

"You knew," Severus whispered maliciously, not turning to face her.

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "No, Severus. I swear I didn't."

His head snapped towards her. "Don't. Lie. To me," he emphasized every word with as much venom and loathing as possible.

The pain in his eyes was gut wrenching. Flashes of betrayal, heartbreak, and hatred kept rotating in those dark sadden orbs glittering in the moonlight.

She slowly approached him, hoping it wouldn't startle him or set him off. "Okay. I admit, I had an inkling it would happen eventually. I just didn't know when exactly."

It was taking every ounce of effort for Severus not to explode, but he didn't attack her. "I will never catch a break, will I? I've accepted the fact I lost her, but now this. Of all men she had to choose, she picked…" his hoarse whisper died in the silence.

"There's a reason for it, you know," Hermione reassured him.

He snorted angrily. "Yes. To spite me. This wouldn't be the first time. All my efforts get thrown back in my face. If I strive for something, like Head Boyship, they give it to James. If I make a mistake with a relationship, Merlin forbid, I don't get a second chance. James, on the other hand, gets everything handed to him on a silver platter! Perfect sodding Potter. Where's the justice?"

Hermione could relate with Severus on his comments, except when it came to unrequited love. And she longed to tell him her own trials in society, from proving to others of her capability because of her muggle parents, to having to deal with the sneers and jeers of those who still couldn't see beyond her blood status, or see her for something other than a know-it-all Gryffindor, best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived.

But she couldn't. It would ruin everything, and the only thing she could do for Severus was watch him suffer. It tore at her heart.

"I wish I knew how you felt," she lied, _I wish I could tell you everything, _was more like her train of thought.

He shook his head. "You don't give a damn. No one does."

This self abuse was not befitting. "Stop being so melodramatic, Severus. It doesn't suit you."

He was taken aback from her pronouncement. "So you don't think I have a right to be angry?"

"Partially. I mean, I know damn well you noticed the two of them hanging out together. This just confirms your suspicions. And I understand you loved her, but you can't let that unrequited love turn sour and destroy who you are!"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't start all this rubbish again."

"I need to. Severus, you've lost faith in yourself and faith in the rest of society."

As if she could have made a more idiotic statement. "Hermione, need I remind you what kind of dunderheads I have to deal with on a daily basis?"

She folded her arms. "Well, not everyone's like that. And instead of assuming the worst in people, maybe you should give people the benefit of the doubt. You won't nearly be as miserable and reckless as you are right now."

"That doesn't work," he replied haughtily.

"I think it has. Case and point: our unique friendship," Hermione said, matter-of-factly.

Severus raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. "I never really had a choice in the matter. You forced your 'friendship' on me."

"If it weren't for this 'forced friendship' with me, you would have sunk so low that Voldemort would have killed you by now."

Severus twitched at the sound of the Dark Lords named. He narrowed his eyes, astounded by her slip of the tongue. "You dare speak his name?" he whispered.

Hermione froze in her spot. Old habits die hard, as they say. For two years, saying the Dark Lord's name had finally sunk in like the way it did for Harry. At least this time it wasn't taboo. But her slip would be costly. Severus would question more about it later, she was sure of that. Her only response was one she heard long ago from a very wise man.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

Severus turned to face her. She couldn't decide whether the look he was giving her was one of disbelief, or one that was impressed by her reasoning.

"You're as mad as an old hatter, you know that don't you?"

Hermione began laughing. She shook her head, smiling at the Slytherin. "Of course. That maybe true, Severus. But it doesn't say much about you. I mean, look at the company you keep."

He smirked, his eyes glittering playfully. "Touche, Granger."

They began walking once more down the corridor and up the flights of stairs to the Gryffindor Tower in silence. Hermione kept looking back at Severus hesitantly, expecting to see the vacated sorrow in his features. She dreaded that hopeless gleam. However, it seemed like he was composed. It could easily be a façade, but Hermione knew somehow that wasn't the case. It touched her to know that she had cheered him up, or at least talked some sense into that stubborn arse.

They arrived at the portrait of the fat lady, yet Hermione didn't make a move to recite the password and say goodnight. They both stood there facing each other awkwardly. So many emotions were flashing through Severus's eyes. Perhaps it was because not so long ago, he was saying goodnight to another Gryffindor girl, who was now with his most dreaded enemy. To Severus, it was probably the hardest thing to do; to go back and revisit those precious memories, because it was certain that he and Lily would never be together.

Hermione shuffled her feet awkwardly, looking away from Severus. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Even if I avoid you, you'll somehow find me." He paused. "I'm taking the day off from our general research, though. I have some…other work to attend to."

Hermione pursed her lips, There was only one other thing he'd put above the Wolfsbane potion. "Right," she said, a little disappointed.

The silence hung heavy in the air. "What do you want from me, Hermione?" he asked with a raw emotion. Hermione finally gathered the courage to look at him directly. His expression was one that pleaded for her to not avoid the question. To be completely honest with him and not dodge anymore bullets. She could tell he couldn't take any more ambiguity.

She sighed. "I only want you to be happy, safe, and content with the decisions you make in your life. Nothing more."

Severus closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "As reassuring as that sounds…" His voice faded. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes opened. "Hermione, listen." His jaw clenched. Obviously what he was about to say was difficult to express. "I've been abused, neglected, ignored, and spat upon for as long as I can remember." He paused. "I think you can understand how this allows me to….distance myself from others."

Hermione nodded, but as she observed him, she saw that his expression changed from one that was pained, to one that was sympathetic and…knowing. He swallowed deeply. "So, you'll understand that the only thing I want right now is a companion to confide in. A colleague. Nothing more. Right?"

At his pronouncement, Hermione felt like she was hit by the Knight Bus.

"Of course," she responded flatly, hoping that she recovered quickly enough that he didn't notice her pained emotion. "Friendship. Anything else would complicate my own situation." She continued scoffing, trying to convince herself that the idea of having a deeper relationship with Severus was completely ludicrous.

Except when she recollected what he said, the Knight Bus simply reversed and hit her again.

Her performance seemed to have convinced Severus. He exhaled and relaxed, seemingly glad to have finally laid the cards on the table. "Good. Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione nodded and forced a smile on her face. "Of course. Goodnight Severus." She quickly turned around and whispered the password. She didn't want him to see her cry.

Going to bed, Hermione almost convinced herself that the tears were for Severus and the terrible life he had to live. And then she changed her mind. The tears were for the fact he would lose so much in his life if he continued to tread the path he had chosen to walk. Or maybe she was crying because she knew what was in store for him in the future, and how much he was going to have to give up in order to gain reconciliation and redemption.

The tears were definitely not because of what he said; how he didn't feel anything but friendship for her. Nor were they shed because she felt jilted. Unrequited feelings were not possible in this situation because she would leave this decade soon, and Ron would be waiting for her with open arms, and Severus Snape would only be a distant memory.

Hermione sighed and wiped her eyes. There was no use crying over him. Severus was merely a project for her. She travelled back in time to save him from his ill doomed fate, not to start a romantic or physical relationship with him, even though in all honesty, compared to Ron, Severus matched her wit and intelligence. Compared to Ron, he was her brilliant intellect's equal. The mate of her mind.

_Who am I kidding_, she mused. _ I've fallen off my broomstick._

At least she didn't have to worry about the implications of her emotions. She could start letting him go. Then, whenever she returned home, she could move on without distantly wondering if Severus could have given her more passion and adventure in terms of a relationship.

It was a shame that she would never find out, though.

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_A/N: Every girl or guy goes through that awkward DTR with a person they care about. And to be frank, I really do think it feels like getting hit by a car. I hope I made it realistic enough. And more importantly, DON'T BE ANGRY WITH ME! It will make sense with time, okay? :)_


	16. Test Subjects

_A/N: Heyyy! Remember me? I'm so so so very sorry for the long wait. Life kind of sped past me these past couple of weeks and I'm not even caught up yet. Hopefully no one has abandoned me. Anyways, this chapter is the longest one yet, so I hope it satisfies your wait. _

_Thanks again to all that have been adding this to their alerts and of course reviewing. It's exciting to see that this fiction is still getting hits even though I haven't updated in 3 weeks. Maybe people actually like this story. :) Keep it up. Your reviews make me want to write faster. They also make me angry when I realize schoolwork goes first (because I'd sooner be writing this than studying insurance). Have a great weekend!_

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**CHAPTER 16: TEST SUBJECTS**

To avoid any awkwardness that might ensue, Hermione didn't try to find Severus the next day. It was better left alone, now that she knew her feelings…or whatever her emotions she felt for him…were unrequited. She was slowly accepting the truth. What would come of it anyway as soon as she would return home? Assuming her efforts would continue in a similar manner, he would travel his dark path and destroy everything good in his life, which meant Severus was dead in 1998. Even if he did return her affections, it would only lead to a disaster.

However, the logical mind and the emotional heart were bitter rivals. Why would they want to work on the same wavelength? A chance at love would always thwart the efforts of the rational. And then, the rational mind would distract the pursuit of love by blatant distraction. In the case of Hermione, it was the Wolfsbane.

Snow started to fall regularly as the weeks loomed closer to end of term exams. In the midst of studying, Hermione managed to draft more theses and reports on the performance of the potion. In fact, to Hermione's dismay, Belby seemed a little disappointed that she had done so much progress on the experiment so quickly, like he was unwilling to share in the glory of creating such a promising solution to the case of Lycanthropy.

But Belby's poor attitude did not deter Hermione. Even his obvious favoritism to the Slytherin didn't bother her. The research was a great excuse to avoid Severus outside the Potions classroom.

Soon, the exams were completed and the school was emptied out of all the students returning home for the holiday, leaving only a handful of people remaining in the quiet confines of the castle walls. Hermione and Remus were luckily the only Gryffindors staying, which helped avoid any unwanted attention. They would be starting the trial testing on the werewolf a few days before Christmas.

"Any side effects to what you've taken so far, Remus?" Hermione inquired as she filled another goblet full of the smoking silvery potion.

He took it reluctantly from her hand. "Nothing but reflexive gagging, but that's because this potion tastes like…"

"Don't insult our work," Severus snapped. "Sugar renders it useless, so you should suck it up and just drink it."

Remus rolled his eyes and took the goblet from Hermione. "Fine. Honestly, the only other effect I'm feeling is drowsiness."

"Well, that's good. The potion is supposed to stabilize your animal instincts by giving you a feeling of relaxation," Hermione said. "I'm sure eventually we can eliminate most of the fatigue."

Remus pinched his nose and quickly gulped down the contents in the goblet. He slammed the cup down with a grimace, shaking his head at the foul taste in his mouth. "No, it's a good drowsiness. I sleep so soundly. The only thing you need to alter is the taste."

"We heard you the first time, you ungrateful mutt," Severus spat once more, jotting down the recent findings of Remus's symptoms.

"You'd complain too if you were destined to drink a concoction that tasted like piss for the rest of your life," Remus stated calmly.

Severus snorted. "Well, if you prefer the taste of flesh and blood, then by all means, stop drinking this."

Remus chuckled. "I get it, Snape. I'm an ungrateful bastard." He handed the Slytherin the empty goblet, which earned him a tiny quirk from the side of his thin mouth.

"This was your last dosage, Lupin," Severus explained. "Mr. Belby has one of the empty classrooms transfigured into an observation lab, separated by a wall and a window so we can see how your transform. The moon wanes tomorrow, so be prepared to mentally note any differences in the way you normally change. We'll need it for any final reports."

Remus nodded and gathered his things. "Sure thing." There was a serious expression on his face as he approached Severus. "I wanted to thank you again for your work. I know we've never been friends, and this project probably won't change the circumstances. But you should know that from now on, I'll only regard you with the highest esteem possible."

Severus closed his eyes and nodded politely. "It certainly has been…interesting. And you aren't half-bad, Remus, personality wise. You do have poor taste in companionship, but beyond that…" He stuck out his hand, which the werewolf accepted with a smile. Their polite handshake was a symbol of tolerance, acceptance, and a truce of some sorts.

As Hermione observed the exchange, a little voice in the back of her head wondered how this event would affect their future behavior with one another, particularly when they would both be colleagues at Hogwarts. To Hermione, she thought it would make both of their lives easier. They would respect each other and not cause disruption in each others lives. On the other hand, it was frightening to her. Her entire 3rd year, sixteen years from that point on, would be completely different, just because two people could get along.

Remus jostled Hermione from her thoughts by then extending his hand to her. "I suppose I should thank you as well. You thought of the idea, after all."

She smiled up at him. "We both did, Remus. If you weren't a werewolf, I wouldn't have come up with this arrangement."

He laughed jovially. "Well then, I should have to thank Mr. Greyback, won't I?"

At the mention of the vicious killer, Hermione's stare faltered. "Right…" her voice died.

"Something wrong, Granger?" Snape called out, noticing her fall of composure.

She shook her head. "Just lost myself there for a minute. Don't worry," she reassured the both of them. However, Snape stared at her with a mixture of concern and suspicion.

The three of them left the dungeons, heading up to the Great Hall for supper. Remus and Hermione were joking, relishing that they would soon have all the free time in the world to their disposal. Severus was falling behind their footsteps, seemingly on purpose. Hermione caught his attempt.

"Aren't you coming to dinner, Sev?" she asked.

His steps faltered. "Oh, no. I don't think so. I just realized I forgot…I mean, I have to check on…"

Hermione thinned her lips. "Right. Well, off you go to the Room of Requirement, then," she said with a sarcastic attitude.

Remus glanced at the both of them suspiciously, but didn't inquire further. It would only add more to the conflict. At dinner, however, his opportunity arose.

"So Snape has a lab in the Come-and-Go room?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," Hermione muttered, spearing a baby carrot rather forcefully on her fork.

"How is it?"

"Fine."

"Are you going to speak to me in one sentence phrases for the rest of the evening?"

"Maybe."

Remus glared at her, rather put off by her shortness. "Hermione, is there something wrong?"

She sighed and stopped mutilating her vegetables with her utensils. "It's nothing, Remus. Don't worry."

"Of course I'm not worried. I just want to make sure you're okay. Does it have to do with Snape?" Hermione managed to nod. "Will you tell me what this is about?"

She frowned. "I really don't want to, just because you boys are getting along so well now. It would be a shame to disrupt the peace."

He placed a gentled hand on hers. "I won't tell, I promise. I know it's bothering you."

She seemed to contemplate her options, and finally decided that he was trustworthy… for some of the information. "It's just…he keeps…experimenting with things that shouldn't be mettled with."

Remus furrowed his brow. "Dark Magic, you mean."

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Yes. I keep trying to warn him that what he's doing is dangerous, but he only keeps persisting further. Doesn't he realize what kind of damage he can do to himself? To the people he cares about? To his future?"

"Hermione, that's his choice to make. It's not fair for you to dictate to him what he should and shouldn't do," Remus said honestly. "I don't doubt you for a minute. I agree with everything you've just said. But to be frank, Severus has always been waist deep into the Dark Arts. It doesn't surprise me he's getting in over his head now."

Her face fell as he sipped calmly on his tea. "So you knew, but you weren't going to try and save him from destroying his future?" she asked, completely aghast.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I never _knew._ I only had my suspicions. Put it this way. Severus just wouldn't be Severus if he didn't know so much about Dark Magic. It's simply a part of him. To change him would to turn him into someone he's not."

"Just like creating this Wolfsbane for you," she spat angrily.

Remus looked offended at her retort. "You know my illness has nothing to do with this. If it was up to me, I would never be a…" his eyes shifted around him as he whispered the next word. "Werewolf. I can't control my actions for a few days once a month. Severus is completely aware of his choices. Free will. If he wants to ruin his life I have no right to stop him, and frankly, I'm not friends with him. If he becomes a Death Eater it doesn't affect me."

Hermione grabbed her satchel and stood up abruptly. "Not if he's responsible for killing someone you care about. Think about that." And she stormed out of the Great Hall, not wanting to run into anyone else for the rest of the day.

* * *

The evening alone in the library allowed Hermione to relax and regain her composure after her argument with Lupin. And when it was a few hours before midnight on Christmas, she was anxiously making her way to the observation classroom where Remus would be transforming. She was notified earlier that day that he was transported there after lunch.

She quickly entered the room and shut the door behind her. A few additional Healers were there for the final observation. Dressed in bright lime green robes, they were writing fervently on their clipboards, probably listing the current state of the werewolf. Hermione saw another Healer gently sponging off the beads of sweat from Remus's forehead. He was panting heavily, but otherwise was speaking coherently to the wizard.

Severus was pacing in the corner anxiously, excitement evident in his features. His eyes were glittering and he could barely contain the smile on his face. His work was coming to life.

Mr. Belby looked even more anxious than Severus. His hands were fidgeting and he was whispering quietly to himself, probably trying to review everything that was done for the potion. When he wasn't whispering, he dug in his pocket and pulled out a watch, checking the minutes left until the truth would be unfurled.

Hermione quickly dug in her satchel and pulled out the files for the project and handed them to Mr. Belby. He was drawn out of his fervor and accepted the papers with a polite smile.

"Well, Miss Granger, you did a fine job. This would have taken me another year or so to complete. But you and young Severus have progressive minds." He sighed. It was obviously painful for him to admit all of this.

"The pleasure was all mine, sir," she responded just as politely. "But let's make sure this project is a success before we go on thanking everyone."

"Everyone, look!" Severus called out. Hermione checked her watch. It was 12:30 AM on the dot. She looked through the glass and saw Remus lying in his bed, shaking slightly. He was removing the covers and sliding onto the floor. Everyone in the observation room quickly approached the glass wall and pressed their hands on it to watch the werewolf transform.

No one in the room could see any signs of physical discomfort from the creature. He simply crouched down on all fours and twitched sporadically. Suddenly, Remus's back hitched upward, tearing at his nightshirt. Thick motley fur grew where the shirt ripped and his limbs turned into clawed feet. Finally, a bushy tail emerged from the end of his back, and the animal scampered to the corner of the room.

You could hear a pin drop in the room. The healers and researchers were waiting with anticipation to see if the animal would show signs of his vicious nature, but nothing happened. He was curled up catatonically, seemingly harmless. But no one would know for sure unless they approached him.

Hermione reached for the door that led to the chamber. Severus followed after her. "Hermione, wait. I'll do it. It's too dangerous."

The door swung shut behind them. "Hermione, no!" he called out again. She turned around quickly to face him, curiosity glistening in her eyes. He reached out and gently grasped her arm. "Please. I want to do it," he whispered gently.

Hermione nodded, completely mesmerized by the softness in his features. He walked passed her and slowly approached the animal in the corner. Slowly, Severus crouched down besides the docile wolf, and the creature turned his head to look at him. He tentatively placed a hand on the fur on his head and stroked gently. Then the wolf blinked.

"Merlin's beard," Severus whispered astoundingly, "It's Lupin. Hermione, come over here."

Hermione sank down next to Severus and petted the werewolf as well. The animal looked over at her and she smiled. Beneath the wild demeanor and the wolfish tendencies, Remus's soft grey eyes looked back at her. "Well I'll be, Moony. It worked. Aren't you the most docile werewolf there is?" she said gleefully, gently tousling his fur.

The werewolf yawned and settled his head back on his front paws, a cue to the two of them that he wished to rest. Hermione and Severus stood up, both with smiles on their faces. The research was successful. Hermione couldn't contain herself. She shrieked with happiness and flung her arms around Severus, embracing him awkwardly.

Severus stiffened at her intrusion. "Can I help you, Granger?" he said while patting her back hesitantly.

She exhaled and buried her head in his chest. "No, Severus. I'm just happy. We did it!"

The doors from the observation room opened and the rest of the team went over to the treated werewolf, all exclaiming praises to the successful potion. Belby even shared in the enthusiastic celebration. But soon the group was ushered out of the room to let the animal rest.

It was close to two in the morning when Hermione and Severus left the dungeons. Severus was adamant once more about walking her back to the common room, and she was too fatigued to argue with him.

"Belby tells me we'll be signing off on the results of the experiment in a few days time," Severus said, breaking the silence.

Hermione nodded. "I heard. Although I think Belby is disappointed we completed everything so quickly. Was he getting paid by the hour? Or does he not appreciate sharing the glory?"

Severus shrugged. "He is a former Slytherin after all. Very ambitious. He thought of everything initially. It probably is a blow to his face with the knowledge his name won't be the only one in the history books."

"Well, isn't that being selfish?" she asked. "It's not like we are taking all the credit for the results."

"Maybe he's a bit zealous," he admitted.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "He shouldn't be making such a fuss. I mean, he could have refused our assistance, you know?"

"I heard Dumbledore didn't give him the choice. I wonder why he would have done so. Perhaps it was blatant favoritism towards Gryffindors again?" he accused.

"You never complained before, Severus. And the last time I checked, you weren't in Gryffindor."

Severus rolled his eyes. "If it was me who approached the Headmaster with the proposition, he would have trounced it immediately. All because I'm in Slytherin. You are his new pet, Granger, and that's the only reason why we had the chance at this."

Hermione sighed. "Well, at least we both got to reap the benefits from this. Belby doesn't even have to worry about me. I've requested that my name be withheld from all published materials about the Wolfsbane."

Severus stopped abruptly and furrowed his brow. "Why would you not want to take credit for all the work you've done?"

"Because the only thing that matters is that we've changed the lives of werewolves all over the world," she stated simply.

Severus looked annoyed. "Well, it's not like I ever got a straight answer from you before. Why start now? Have a Merry Christmas, Hermione."

The corner of her mouth quirked. "Merry Christmas to you too, Severus. I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

Severus didn't go to sleep after he walked Hermione back to her common room. Instead, he made his way back to the Room of Requirement. He was so close to completing the alterations for the other potion he was working on for the Dark Lord. He wanted to hurry up and get that work out of his hair so he could focus more on life after graduation.

He also wanted to avoid the constant interrogation from Regulus, and the persistent nagging from Hermione. Life would be so much easier without them prying into his work and business.

For weeks, he couldn't figure out how to make the potion more traumatic than he originally created it. Or, for that matter, what the Dark Lord was looking for when it came to torture. Severus was certain the wizard was completely mental for thinking anything could be worse than the Cruciatus Potion besides death.

_Mental…_

The metaphoric lightbulb illuminated in his brain. Maybe that was it! Mental torture! If he could cause excruciating bouts of pain along with psychological torture, there couldn't possibly be anything else he could do that wouldn't make the victims beg for death. If that was not enough for the Dark Lord, then he should murder him right there on the spot.

Studying countless books (muggle and magical) helped him decide on the best possible ingredient to instill the mental torture, and nothing seemed more plausible than ergot fungi. Just enough of the mushrooms could be catastrophic for the psyche. And since both muggles and wizards alike were aware of the properties of ergots, they couldn't be too difficult to find in the Forbidden Forest.

The mushrooms had been stewing for a week, and the dreaded time to test the potion was coming up shortly. He could only imagine the horrors it would bring to his memory when he finished ingesting the contents. He shook his head. No use to worry about it now. He would cross that bridge when the time arrived to do so.

After adding the ergot mushrooms to his already completed Cruciatus Potion, he had a few hours to rest before it was time to test it. Perfect. If he napped there, he could avoid the halls, thus avoiding Hermione and her suspicions. He knew she was too dangerously interested in his work. She already had a good idea about what he was concocting. The simmering potion was slowly turning green as he added the mushrooms one by one. Then he made his way to the sofa in front of the fire. He needed as much rest as possible. He had no idea as to how much the potion was going to torture him physically and mentally.

He slept soundly for what felt like five minutes, and then all of the sudden was drawn from his restless slumber from an insistent rapt at the door. At first, he thought it was a part of his dream, and then he thought something was wrong with the potion. Half asleep and half panicked, he ran to the door and opened it without a rational thought.

"Merry Christmas, Severus," Hermione exclaimed, holding out a few cakes, probably nicked from the kitchens.

He gave her a questioning look. "I don't remember inviting you here, Granger. What do you want?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think anyone should spend Christmas alone, including you and me. Since the two of us wouldn't have any company, I thought we might as well spend it together."

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. I'm actually in the middle of something."

Her outstretched hands full of treats went slightly limp. Hermione looked up at him with sadness, put off by his dismissal. "Oh, well…in that case, I better go…"

Severus was mentally kicking himself. Normally by now, the door would be shut and he would be confined to his peaceful solitude. But those chestnut brown eyes glistening with a twinge of pain was his undoing. He wasn't used to such a gaze coming from her, and it took all his willpower not to beg for her to come back.

Of course, he wanted her to return, just so that the guilt of him turning her away wouldn't rest in his mind. He would have to do it in a way that wouldn't harm his dignity. Although mentally, he knew she drove out every scrap of it he had.

He sighed and stepped away from the door. "Granger, just….fine," he gave up grudgingly. She was smart enough to know that an open door was an invitation for company.

Entering into the lab, she smiled softy at him, which cause something in his stomach to bubble up inside him. He blamed hunger for these pangs.

"Where should I put these?" she asked politely.

He looked over at her wares. "Toss the fruit cake in the grate. Everything else can go on the coffee table. I'll brew us up some tea later."

She chuckled as the retched fruit cake was smoldered by the flames. "Good call, Severus. Fruit cake is atrocious."

"Who would have thought combining two great things can make such a disgusting confection?" he asked pleasantly.

Hermione attended to the treats while Severus quietly went back to his work station to look at the brewing potion. It was a violent translucent emerald green, and as far as he could see, the potion was ready for testing. How to get Hermione out of the room so he could get it over with was the next big hurdle.

"Do you have anything else to drink besides tea? Coffee or cider, maybe?" he inquired, hoping Hermione would take the initiative and return to the kitchens.

"Tea will be fine, Severus. I'm tired and lazy," she said while cutting up some of the Christmas nut rolls. She straightened up and saw the tense features on Severus's stance. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes, of course. Why would there be a problem?" he answered all too quickly.

To Severus's dismay, Hermione approached the work table, her lips pursed. She reached the cauldron and took a good look at the substance inside. "So this is your alternated potion," she stated in a surprisingly calm voice. "Does it work?"

"I don't know. I haven't had the chance to test it yet," Severus stated nervously.

Hermione glared at him with a contemptuous glare. Suddenly, she unbuttoned her outer robe and tossed it onto an adjacent table. "Well, no point of waiting any longer then. Let's get to it."

Severus's eyes widened in shock, knowing full well what she wanted to do. "No way am I letting you test this on yourself. Are you mad?"

She rolled up her sleeve and refused to make eye contact with him. "If you have the right to destroy your life with reckless behavior, then so do I."

"Stop this now, Hermione!" he commanded. "This doesn't involve you and it never will, so stop trying to pry into my private business. I never asked for you help and if you keep this up…"

"You'll do what, Severus?" she interrupted haughtily. "Go up to Voldemort and tell him how mean I am to you?"

"Don't speak his name!" he rasped harshly.

"I will speak his name if I bloody well please. You don't even know half the things I know about those people you admire so much. And maybe if I actually do this, take this horror of a potion, then you'll see the errors of your ways. It's okay if you hurt yourself in the process, but you don't wish to harm anyone else. Guess what, Severus? Your little group thrives on harming others! And I will be your physical proof!"

Severus swallowed anxiously, not responding. He only continued to stare at Hermione, whose intense angry gaze overwhelmed him. "I thought of all people, you'd understand why I'm doing this," he whispered fleetingly.

"I'm doing this for your own good. In fact, you'll probably thank me later."

"You're idiotic. Thank you for almost poisoning yourself? The only way I'll thank you for taking it is if something goes wrong and you actually do poison yourself!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Give me the silver goblet."

"No. And you can't make me, either," Severus said in his most threatening voice.

A sinister smile spread across her face. "You think so? All I have to do, Severus, is leave this room, go up a few flights of stairs, and find Dumbledore. I'm sure he'd be pleased to learn of all the educational research you are developing right inside his castle walls. Imagine how he will react when he finds out one of his own pupils are raising up an army to take over the Wizarding World. And right under his nose, to top it off."

Severus froze, disbelief and betrayal shining in his dark eyes. "You wouldn't dare blackmail me." But he knew she was capable of such destruction.

"Give me the goblet, and your secrets are safe with me," she whispered calmly.

They continued to stare at each other through a heavy silence. Finally, without breaking eye contact, Severus flourished his wand and on the table appeared a shining, silver cup.

Severus walked past her to the cauldron with shaky steps. He filled a separate small basin full of the power potion and quietly set down the ladle. When he turned to face Hermione, he was clenching his jaw to retain his anger. "And you call yourself a Gryffindor," he said bitterly.

When his eyes met Hermione, he was surprised to see sadness in those eyes that usually held so much passion. She handed him the goblet. "I'm sorry. I just can't bear to see you harm yourself. Now, and in the long run…" She said this like she knew something he didn't…

He filled the goblet with the potion that was in the smaller basin and handed it back to her. "I measured the dose in this smaller bowl here. You have to drink the entire contents or the…effects...won't subside." He couldn't bear to utter the word 'pain' instead of effects.

She glanced inside the up and swirled around the contents. "What should I expect after I take this?" she asked, trying to mask her fear.

Severus closed his eyes, wishing he could avoid the question. "Excruciating amounts of pain, comparable to the Cruciatus Curse. And there will be some psychological effects as well, but I can't say to what extent."

Hermione nodded solemnly and sighed. "Well then…" she raised her goblet towards him in salute. "To your bright future." She tipped back the cup and Severus watched her throat swallow up his torturous potion.

Her eyes were closed as she set the empty goblet down on the table. Severus saw a shutter pass through her body, but beyond that he didn't see any pain in her features. "You alright?" he asked hesitantly.

She nodded and pushed the goblet towards him again. "Hit me again." So Severus refilled the goblet and she drank it down as quickly as possible.

The goblet fell from her grasp and clattered on the table as her legs gave out. Severus reached out just in time and caught her before she landed on the cold stone floor. Her limbs were shaking and she had a death grip on his robes. "Oh, god, Severus," she croaked.

He set her gently down on the floor and went to refill the glass for the third time. She wouldn't take it from him, even when he pressed the rim to her lips. "Hermione, I told you the entire basin's contents had to be consumed in order for the pain to go away. You are in pain, right?"

Her breathing was harsh. "That's an understatement."

"Then drink this for me. It will make you feel better. I promise," he said this with as much gentleness as possible.

The third goblet was finished and she issued a blood curdling scream. "Severus, don't. Please don't make me."

"You have to, Hermione. It won't stop unless you do. I know you can overcome this. You're a Gryffindor. Show me those instincts. Please."

She drank it down like she had been parched for ages. The cup was refilled for the fourth time. When he put it to her lips, she grasped his wrist tightly.

"Professor. Please, sir. You don't have to do this." She said in a panic. Her eyes were opened wide and her pupils dilated so much that Severus couldn't see any of the gentile chestnut brown he was used to.

"Yes I do. Believe me, this is what is supposed to happen. Just drink up."

"I won't let you die in vain!" she screamed.

Severus realized she was hallucinating. He had to calm her down. "I'm not going to die if you finish this potion."

She shook her head violently, her curly hair sticking to the sweat beading on her forehead. "No. He's going to kill you. Just tell him the truth, professor. Tell him he doesn't have to kill you. Tell him to disarm you."

"What are you going on about? You're hallucinating, Hermione. It will all end once you drink this." What was going on? Who was this professor? And who was trying to kill him?

She kept muttering and screaming. After the next two glasses, she kept mentioning stolen swords and Gringotts vaults, but more often she begged for Severus, no, rather this unknown professor, to save himself. He hated every moment of that afternoon. The pain she was enduring was affecting him in ways that made him want to truly kill himself. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eighth. Every glass destroyed a portion of his humanity. One more dose after the one in the glass and it would be all over. She drank it, tremors shaking her entire body.

"KILL ME!" she screamed, her blank eyes streaming with tears. "KILL ME INSTEAD. I'm a reason for your struggle. He's your servant. Don't hurt him. Oh Merlin, kill me, please. Please!"

Now, Severus was fearful. He never felt his heart race so quickly before. He was living a nightmare, except the pain was coursing through Hermione instead of himself. She was begging for death, and the worst part was that he was responsible. He created this torturous potion. He was the one who came up with the ideas of the ingredients, the steps, and the will to continue to brew it. Who was he kidding when he thought the potion would be out of his hands after it was completed? This would haunt him for ages.

"It's okay," he faintly whispered to her. "It's almost over. This is the last one. I promise. Drink this, and everything is going to be fine. No one will be dead, and you won't be in pain anymore. Please, drink it, _ma mie._"

His throat was closing up, His eyes were stinging. _No! This is not the time for weakness, Severus. Hold yourself together. She's going to be alright. _ The cup was trembling at her lips, and he couldn't be sure if it was her hands or his that were shaking more.

Hermione's arms fell limp seconds after the last of the potion was swallowed. Severus felt his stomach drop. "Hermione?" he said in a panic. He tapped her cheek a few times, hoping it would rouse her. When that didn't work, he shook her body. "Oh Merlin, please don't be dead. Come on, Hermione."

When he heard her moan slightly, he exhaled in relief. She was alive. Somehow, it would all be sorted out. He adjusted so that she was lying more comfortably in his arms, sacrificing his own comfort in the process. But that didn't matter to him. As far as he could tell, Hermione's well being was all he could focus on.

Her eyelids began to flutter. "Water," she croaked weakly. Severus summoned the glass and casted a simple water charm inside the cup, offering it to her graciously. While Severus supported her head with his free hand, she drank it, some of it spilling off her chin, but she was too weak to worry.

Those chestnut brown eyes met his violently dark ones. Exhaustion was etched in her face, but it looked like she was going to recover. She whispered her thanks and gave him a small smile, but Severus lost the ability to speak. Somehow, words couldn't describe the last few minutes he just lived through. The ordeal was barely ten minutes long, but he swore each stabbing minute watching her suffer was a lifetime. A lifetime of hell on earth. And now, to hear her voicing gratitude to him, when he was far from worthy of it, was too much.

Severus saw Hermione reach up a shaky hand to brush his face. "You're crying, Severus," she observed, her voice mixed with a dreamy air.

He was now aware of the wetness on his cheek, right where Hermione was gently drying it with her hand. He must have been too worried about Hermione to notice that he let the tears begin to fall. Usually, he would stiffen and become defensive when someone saw him emotional, but after that afternoon, he couldn't find the strength to put up his walls.

The tears were no longer falling, but he still could feel the tightness in his throat. "It doesn't matter, _ma mie._ You're going to be okay."

She smiled softly and curled closer to the comfort of his body. "_Ma mie," _she whispered at the endearment he used. "Take care of me, Sev." And she drifted out of consciousness.

He continued to hold her in that position on the stone floor for a few minutes. Her features were relaxed and undisturbed, something so deserving for what she just went through. While she slept, a flood of emotions coursed through Severus. Hermione was successful with her plan of taking the potion. He never wanted this troublesome potion ingested by anyone he cared about. It would have been easy to justify the brewing if he was the one taking it. Because frankly, he knew he deserved all the pain in the world.

Severus realized his life was slipping slowly out of his control. None of his decisions could be based on his own best interests and desires. Sure, he could convince himself that was what he wanted, but he was only being foolish. To everyone in the world, he was simply a puppet on strings. Everyone around him would take from him and dump him at their earliest convenience. No one actually cared.

His "friends" abandon him more quickly than not. Even the professors seemed to take advantage of what he had to offer. The proof was in their choice to give another boy the top honors at school, the title of Head Boy, after six long years of tedious essays and exceptional performances in class, not to mention the blundering tasks that were presented to the Prefects every year. And he knew Belby would only see him as a trophy of sorts if he was to take on an apprenticeship at the hospital, much like in the behavior of Slughorn.

But this girl, this sleeping girl in his arms, trusted him and relied on him like no one else. And she never showed an ounce or a sign that she would desert him. In fact, when things got harder for him, she seemed to hold a tighter grip on him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't convince himself that she was with him for anything but the pleasure of his company.

And after what happened today…

_She really must care about me,_ he thought tenderly, while gently brushing a tendril of her curls away from the side of her face, relishing in the softness of her skin.

As smoothly as he could, he picked up her body and carried her to the couch to let her sleep more comfortably. With his heart skipping a few beats after feeling her weight pressed against his chest, he gently laid her down on the cushions. He was just about to pull away, when he heard her whisper.

"No…don't go."

Heartstrings were tugged. "I'll be right here when you wake up," he whispered back to her sincerely.

Her eyes opened halfway. "Stay here." She made an effort to hold onto his robes.

Severus wouldn't fight it. And justifying his decision from his own lack of sleep from the night before, he widened the sofa so they both could sleep on it parallel. She curled back into his embrace as the familiar fleece blanket covered them both, and he fell asleep with the gentile fragrance of jasmine and lavender pervading his senses.

* * *

_A/N: The fruitcake bit is random. Look up Jim Gaffigan's stand-up on fruit cake. That's mainly why I included it, since it is a traditional Christmas "treat."_


	17. Side Effects

_A/N: So my five year old laptop from school is slowly dying on me. It doesn't hold a charge unless I jam in the power chord and hold onto it as if my life depended on it. My knuckles are cramping like crazy. Fortunately, I did some creepy dance on my head and it's behaving...for now (meaning it will be on AC power until I move it to another location). But my sister is giving me her old laptop for my perusal. Yay for sisters. :)_

_Please tell me what you think of this. I do love the feedback. Have a great weekend!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 17: SIDE EFFECTS**

_1998_

A peaceful moment was rare for Harry. Between training and visiting Ginny and searching for any whereabouts of Hermione, he could never get a moment to sit and relish in the silence. Then again, nothing ever seemed peaceful for him. How could it, when you were The Chosen One?

His favorite time of day was in the evening. Nothing was more enjoyable than sitting at his breakfast nook in his flat, drinking tea and reading any piece of fiction he could get his hands on. It was a great way to escape reality and give his mind a break from the stress and hustle of the life of an Auror.

Ron wouldn't be home for another hour or so. He was visiting The Burrow, which usually meant him discussing with his parents whether they heard any other information about where (in the past) Hermione could have gone. Harry was sorry to say that despite Ron's disregard to the obvious, they both knew she was after Snape.

Harry still felt guilty that nothing was done about her request for Snape's acquittal and pardon. Maybe he could have said something else to Kingsley, or even drafted a petition for the Wizengamot to vote on. If the information wasn't just haphazardly thrown upon them the way the Minster presented the files, they probably would have been more reasonable.

He sighed. No use crying over spilt butterbeer. The past was the past and it wouldn't be easy to just turn back time.

_Isn't that ironic,_ Harry mused.

A door slammed startled Harry as he saw his flat mate storm into the kitchen. A panic-stricken looked crossed his freckled features. He had never seen Ron in such a state since the war.

"Ron, what's wrong?"

He shook his head and sat down on the opposite side of the table, slamming down a copy of the Evening Prophet in front of Harry. "Things are really getting chaotic, Harry. And I think it has to do with Hermione."

Harry furrowed his brow and read the front page of the paper. "Oh bloody hell," he muttered.

**_Investigation Underway for Mysterious Death of Elite Potioneer_**

_Damocles Belby, 96, was found dead in his estate early Thursday morning from what appears to be a severe hemorrhage of the brain. Family members reported him missing a day earlier when he had not contacted them for a family outing._

_Mr. Belby was employed by St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in their research department. He was an adept potions Master and certified Healer. , Belby's well known medicinal contribution to society was creating the Wolfsbane Potion in 1977, along with…_

As if the paper slapped him across the face, Harry's vision lost focus and he could not finish the article from that point on because a severe pain ripped through his head.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed, "My head hasn't felt like this since Voldemort died." He grimaced, rubbing his head to lessen the pain. He tried once more to focus on the words in the article, to no avail. He slammed the paper down in frustration. "What is the meaning with this?"

Ron stood up and begain pacing across the kitchen floor. "Mum, Dad, and I couldn't read the article either. We were perplexed, until Dad got word back from the Ministry of the strange circumstances of how Belby was found." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "At first, they thought it was a homicide, but there wasn't a trace of magic that didn't seem out of the ordinary. And then the M.E. came by and determined the cause of death. But the thing that bothers the investigators is how a man as active and healthy as Belby, could suddenly keel over and die of a brain hemorrhage."

He sat down somberly. "Then, they saw a book lying on the floor next to Belby's arm chair. It was a book of his research notes and experiments he derived a couple decades ago. Everything seemed ordinary, until they realized the majority of the script in the section where he created the Wolfsbane wasn't his own manuscript."

Ron slipped a piece of parchment across the table. Harry's green eyes opened with alarm. "That's Hermione's handwriting," he said astonished.

"I know," Ron exclaimed. "I could recognize that scrawl anywhere, from all the help she gave us with our homework. But the strange thing is no one seemed alarmed by this "unknown researcher". But their indifference began to confuse the lot at the Belby Estate. Apparently one went completely mental and jumped out the window."

"You're kidding me," Harry said in disbelief.

Ron pointed at the article once more. "Keep reading." As he looked down, without any explanation, Harry's vision refocused on the tiny print on the newpaper.

…_creating the Wolfsbane Potion in 1977, along with his research team of Severus Snape and an unknown contributor simply known as the initial "G" when the document was published. _

_Law enforcement officials are requesting individuals to come forward if they have any information that could contribute to the ongoing investigation of the death of Damocles Belby, particularly on the unknown researcher "G", or the whereabouts of Severus Snape, who seemed to have vanished from society after the end of the Second Wizarding War. _

_Officials warn that Snape is highly dangerous and is wanted for the murder of the late Albus Dumbledore and to proceed with caution if they come into close proximity with the suspect._

_A memoriam and a list of achievements Mr. Belby had completed in his life, turn to page D3._

Harry looked up at Ron with the most peculiar expression. "Whoever wrote this article is bound to be shown the door tomorrow morning. Snape's dead…"

Ron nodded. "Oh, Dad's already heard from the Prophet. Apparently they've been flooded with owls, completed disgusted by their blatant mistake and how poorly journalism is run today. How they could have missed something that obvious when proofreading is beyond me."

Ron scratched his head as Harry reread the article. Thoughts and unanswered questions were bursting through his head. "Has your dad ever met Belby?"

"No, I don't think so. But he's heard that Damocles was a terrible arrogant jerk, especially after the Wolfsbane success. Except he was a bit confused when the potion was actually invented. We all thought it was at least ten years after the printed date. But the Prophet says the first successful trial was in 1977.

Harry swallowed nervously. "Hermione's definitely responsible for this. She pushed the creation of Wolfsbane ten years earlier than it actually occurred. It probably destroyed her to see Remus in his state at school."

"Yeah, and from what I gather, when Belby discovered he had to share his success story with two teenagers, after he swore he developed the potion himself, his brain couldn't handle the sensory overload and just gave out. His pride was probably so wounded at the change that it killed him."

Harry sighed in disbelief and shook his head. "What have you done, Hermione Granger?" The two of them sat somberly in the little nook, trying to absorb all that had happened.

"Apparently there's a silver lining, though," Ron broke out into the silence.

Harry looked up with hesitance. "I don't see how that's possible."

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "The Ministry is getting reports back from St. Mungos from hundreds of patients who have been miraculously cured of Lycanthropy. Even a few grungy, creepy blokes have shown up out of nowhere claiming to have been brought back from the dead. That's a little harder to believe, but the cures...well, it makes sense, right? If the Wolfsbane was created ten years earlier, there would be at least a couple of years where the werewolves would have been treated and they wouldn't have attacked their victims."

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "The world has gone mental."

"I just hope she comes home soon," Ron responded somberly, "Before anything else goes wrong."

* * *

_1977_

Hermione sighed pleasantly. A nap on Christmas was always the best present. She shifted slightly and a few stabs of pain ran through her body. That was strange. She couldn't remember anything out of the ordinary from that day that could have made her sore.

Ah, but why bother recollecting anything of a negative nature when a girl was so comfortable? Her face broke into a small, sleepy smile and she buried her face into the warm pillow and inhaled. The smell comforted her. A hint of spices and earthy tones, mixed with a faint scent of clean laundered robes.

The pillow shifted next to her. Hermione's senses were returning to her. Pillows don't move. Pillows also aren't naturally warm and slightly firm. And they don't exhale.

Seeing that they don't have arms, they definitely can't caress your back comfortingly, either.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she realized the soft pillow was actually the torso of Severus, lying asleep next to her, or at least it looked like he was sleeping. The events of the past few hours came back to her in waves, just as the tension returned back in her limbs. She was touched that he didn't bother to leave her alone. She asked him to stay, and he kept his word and then some.

Hermione rested her head back down against his chest and sighed. Never in a million years would she have believed that it could be possible to be so tranquil with Severus Snape. And the fact that right under her ear, she could clearly hear the gentle beating of his heart reminded her that he was very much alive. And that comforted Hermione more than lying in his warm and protected embrace.

Hermione decided that her favorite sound in the world was that steady, pulsing rhythm that signified life was thriving through his veins. And she smiled.

One of Severus's sleeves was rolled up past his wrist, probably from when he was preparing the potion. Curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione moved her free hand and placed it gently on the exposed skin. She could see the pale smooth surface of his forearm. _The _forearm. And it was clean of any sign of branding. Her thumb grazed the soft skin, barely making any movements but a gentle swirling motion.

Despite the miniscule shift of her traitorous thumb, Hermione heard the heartbeat of the man quicken. She didn't know if he had already been awake before, judging by his arm that smoothed over her back earlier, or something about her touch, well, _aroused_ him slightly. The thought of this made Hermione's own heart race.

Her head rose up from his chest, and Severus's piercing gaze was already on her. The expression was unreadable, but had a fire that made her breath hitch. She managed to swallow.

"Good morning," she whispered with sleep in her voice.

"It isn't," he responded, but widened his eyes at the implication he suggested. "I mean, morning, that is."

She smiled, noticing that his gaze shifted awkwardly away from her, but he still kept his arm around her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked hesitantly.

Hermione relaxed back onto his chest, which made him stiffen. "As expected. My muscles are sore and I'm thirsty as all hell. But I think I have survived."

To her dismay, he gently pushed her off him, getting up off the sofa. "I need to get you some pain remedies.

She sat up as she heard him rummage for some vials. He returned shortly, holding two small vials full of a light blue opaque liquid and another that looked rather smoky.

"A pain reliever and Pepper-Up," he addressed as he handed her the bottles and a glass of water. "I'm not poisoning you."

"How considerate of you, especially after earlier," she teased and took the contents willingly, handing him back the empty bottles and glassware. She heard her stomach rumbling and glanced over at the fire, where the piles of uneaten treats lay temptingly on the table. "If you summon some tea, we can actually start breaking that pile of cakes."

Severus chuckled and pushed the table towards the sofa, grabbing a sugar cookie in the process. In a few seconds, the teapot standing next to the pile of plates was steaming and the two of them began to devour the delectable confections to no avail.

He decided to have a seat next to Hermione's outstretched feet. He was rather quiet. Hermione even noticed he stopped chewing, so enveloped in the spiraling conflicts of his mind. She nudged her toes into his hip when his got lost in his head once more.

"A penny for your thoughts, Severus."

He shook out of his reverie. "Oh, what was that?" She looked at him with intense concern, and he sighed. "It's nothing important, Granger. Just…figuring out what I need to do today."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "You need to learn how to lie better."

He seemed to be questioning whether he should be honest with her. He exhaled and slowly turned his head to look at Hermione. "What do you think is on my mind? Please don't tell me you're that daft to not realize it."

She looked away sheepishly and curled her knees back. "Well, I wasn't going to bring it up if you weren't comfortable with it."

Severus snorted. "That never stopped you before." A heavy silence hung in the air. "Why did you do it, Hermione?"

She noticed his voice was laced with confusion, anxiety, and anger. "You didn't realize how badly your choices could affect others. I've already explained to you that perhaps if you saw how it could harm someone you cared about, you'd think twice about doing anything more for You-Know-Who."

He closed his eyes in frustration. "You just don't get it, do you? There was never a choice for me. I never went searching for them. For as long as I can remember, the only person I could depend on was myself. I didn't need anyone. Not my mother. Not my father. Not some secret society. I got thrown in when my friends decided to get me involved with their projects because they can't do the work themselves." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Reg was mainly responsible for giving my name. When I sternly told him I didn't want any involvement on any side of the rising war, he said he would be killed. What else was I supposed to do but comply?"

"Was Regulus telling the truth?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"Of course he was. The idiot can't control his tongue. He boasts and gestures grandly to gain the attentions of others around him, hoping he can gain more power in the process. He lets his mouth run away from his thoughts. One day, he will pay for it all, and I'll be the first to tell him I told him so."

He picked up a clean napkin and began tearing it to shreds. "I haven't met the Dark Lord yet. I haven't been deemed worthy enough to stand directly in his bodily presence. But he has sent me…requests…through a few of his more faithful members. I've been slow on his demands, hoping someone else will be discovered to take over the position of Potions Expert, but alas, there hasn't been one deemed sinister enough to brew illicit poisons."

Hermione's heart began racing. To her, it sounded like Severus never wanted to get involved with the Death Eaters from the start. It was more like he was giving up having any control in the circumstances of his life. Her emotions went out for the Slytherin. From the beginning, no one ever allowed him any right to make his own decisions. His home life was miserable, and then when he got to Hogwarts, he got thrown into the mess of Death Eaters to save another person's skin. And little did Severus know, in a few years time, Dumbledore will hold the rest of the cards in the game. No one deserved that.

A few doubts surfaced through Hermione's mind. Severus claims he has no interest in the war. He wanted to be out of the conflict between the Order and the Death Eaters. But that didn't mean he didn't hold a bias towards one party or the other. Her curiosity could not stop her from finding out the truth.

"Do you support their cause, Severus?" she asked nervously.

He tossed the napkin aside and scrutinized her, trying to figure out why she meant to ask that question. It would be difficult for him to explain. "Are you asking if I hate Muggles and Mudbloods?" he answered in an angry whisper.

The bitterness in his voice stabbed her gut. "Only if you think they have a cause beyond that. And please refrain from using that kind of language with me," she retorted back.

He glared at her. "I can speak in whatever manner I want. It's all the same in the end. I'm a Slytherin, so that means I hate anyone with a blood status below mine. Why don't I just make life easier for everyone and just believe what they say about me?"

"You know you're above the stereotypes, Severus. And if you don't, then at least I do."

Severus stared at her incredulously. "Shows how much you know about me, Hermione."

Hermione felt her throat constrict. "What does that mean?"

Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It means that I'm not completely against what they are striving for."

At that moment, Hermione felt her heart plummet. "How could you say that?" she managed to croak.

"Are you that naïve to think that the muggles that do know about our existence aren't envious of our gifts? Do you listen at all in History of Magic? The Statute of Secrecy was set up because muggles were threatening our kind! Nothing has changed since then."

"Don't let a few rotten apples spoil the whole bushel. Not all muggles and muggleborns are trying to take down our race," Hermione stated rationally.

"I'm not talking about mud…I mean, muggleborns," he spat. "I used to, of course. But then…" his voice faded softly. _Probably reminiscing about Lily_, Hermione mused. He continued. "Frankly, they have shown inept ability to strive farther than the purebloods. No. It's the muggles that are the problem." Hatred burned through his eyes. "I _hate _muggles."

His voice was raw and heavy. Hermione knew he was trying to mask any emotion other than loathing. But she knew he was referring to his father. And as far as she could see, he felt more sadness, rejection, and disappointment at the thought of the man who was supposed to raise him. Instead, the child was betrayed by his own father.

"Why do you hate them?" she whispered, managing to contain her tears.

Severus snorted. "You aren't a bloody therapist, Granger. I have no reason. I just hate them."

"Stop lying to me," she stated firmly, but softened as she saw him stiffen and close up defensively from her. "Severus, you can tell me. Contrary to what you may think, I actually do care about you…and your feelings," She straightened up, wincing slightly at some of the lasting effects the healing potions missed, and crawled closer to where he was sitting. One of her gentle hands reached over and placed it over his arm. "Please, Sev. You can trust me."

Hermione didn't realize how close her face was to his until he turned his head to meet her gaze. Those beautiful, endless orbs were so mesmerizing. She even noticed that they weren't all black, contrary to her previous beliefs, but rather a very dark chocolate brown. And the color easily blended in with his black pupils.

His stare was always so intense. Her breath hitched. For one split second, Hermione swore she saw his gaze flicker to her lips.

Severus didn't respond, but everything in his face changed. They both scrutinized each other intensely. If she just inched her face in a little closer…her mind screamed for her to stop the incessant thoughts. Her heart was racing frantically under her breast. A stray hair fell across his face. Dare she reach out and brush it back? Her hand betrayed her rationale, and he leaned into her touch. Her heart was dancing. He wasn't pulling away! Oh, but how much could she get away with? Would she dare to moisten her mouth? Her tongue darted out reflexively for preparation of what she wanted to come next…

At the sight of wetting her lips, he pulled away, jostled back to reality. Hermione slinked back, and folded her arms across her chest. "Sorry…" she whispered.

"No. Don't be," he responded back awkwardly.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Neither of them spoke a word for what felt like hours. She couldn't decide whether the tension was from the blatant rejection from Severus's part, or the chemistry sparking between them like the fire inside the grate.

Merlin, how could such a conversation turn in so many directions in such short amount of time! It was overwhelming.

She didn't dare to look over at Severus while he mentally mused. She heard him shuffle while he reached over and poured them some more tea. When he straightened back, she heard him sigh.

"My dad…" he began, but somehow couldn't form the words. He cursed, frustrated by his incapacity. But then began an angsty tirade that took Hermione's breath away.

"Do you want to know why I hate muggles? Because I was raised by a muggle! And he showed me daily just how much he loved that I was becoming like my mother. One of _them. _My dad is the filthiest, most worthless scum that has ever walked this planet. He's lazy, he's irresponsible, and the only thing he cares about is making enough money to go and waste it on whores and alcohol. Who cares about raising a family? Hell, with magic, we should be able to take care of ourselves, he used to say. Oh, but if we even _tried _to cast one simple levitation charm, my mother would be incapacitated for a whole week!"

He seethed. "No one respected my father. I had to bear the insults and jests from the other children in the neighborhood because I was '_That Snape Boy'_ who lived down in Spinner's End with that bitter, neglectful woman as my mother and that horrid abusive drunk as a father, wearing clothes that were ragged and too large for my thin, malnourished frame. I was a pariah. My entire poor excuse of a family was. The only person who was willing to look past that was Lily, and her parents had pygmypuffs at the knowledge of who their daughter was spending time with."

He grew silent once more. Hermione couldn't think of anything to say that would comfort him. "At least you had someone to support you," she weakly noted.

Severus snorted. "Lily was definitely a distraction. But then I became dependent on her. She for a long time was my only source of kindness. She proved to me that there was good in the world. And then my dependence became obsession. I never wanted her out of my sight. I never wanted her hanging out with anyone but myself. And as I unceremoniously fell in love with her, I was frightening her and pushing her away. It was too late before I realized what I had been doing for all those years. I probably made my mother proud by not doing a damn thing about it."

He sighed. "For a while, my mum was just as caring as the next one. But my father drove out every last bit of affection out of her. I remember the first time when I realized what kind of person my father was, and I hated my mother for ever giving that bloke a chance. I _loathed_ her for it. And then I loathed myself because next to Lily, mum was the only thing I had. But as time went on, I realized she was just as worthless as him because she never left him when she had the chance."

"My father was only interested in gaining what he wanted. Very Slytherin for a muggle. But we were no use to him once he realized there were rules to having magical powers. Mum couldn't just transfigure our dump of a house into some extravagant Victorian. She couldn't provide everything with a flick of her wand to save him from holding down a job. Well, he never managed to hold one down longer than a couple of months."

"When he was out of a job, mum had to resort to desperate measures to provide for us. Oh, it wasn't _that," _he added quickly at the horrified look on Hermione's face. "Even though the Prince line disowned her after she married my father, she would always see herself as a Pureblood, and wouldn't sell herself to make her feel any less noble. No, she ended up brewing illegal potions for friends and locals. When I was seven, she was caught and arrested by the Minstry for distribution and possession, and I actually lived in a muggle orphanage for a year and a half while she served out her sentence in Azkaban."

He stared intently into the fire. "Those were the best years of my life," he whispered truthfully. "I had rags for clothes, I was estranged from everyone there, but at least the nuns running it gave everything they had for their orphans. They almost had me convinced that not all muggles were bad. But then they made me go back home."

"They had to, Sev," Hermione assured. "The law says there for a child to be permanently removed from their home, both parents have to be deemed unfit to have full custody."

Severus somberly smirked. "Unfit. That's an understatement. Unfit to procreate is more like it. In all honesty, my parents should have been sterilized."

Hermione frowned. "That's a terrible thought. You wouldn't have been born otherwise."

"Ha! Even better," he exclaimed nonchalantly.

His easy pronouncement was like a punch in her stomach. At that moment, the only thing she wanted to do was to strangle him. How dare he make a statement like that? He behaved as if he was a burden to all. That no one cared for him. Here she was, risking her entire future to prove to him he was worth so much more than what he gave himself credit for, and he was saying it would be better off for everyone if he had never been born.

Their close proximity was unbearable for Hermione. She got up off he sofa and stormed to the opposite wall by the hearth, turning her back on the Slytherin. Severus knew he went too far with his passionate outcry.

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione. I wasn't being serious."

She refused to face him. "That's not something to joke about."

"I wasn't 'joking.' I guess I over-exaggerated my feelings. Just forget everything I said."

_Forget everything you said? _Now she was livid. She swiftly turned around, fire blazing in her eyes. "So I am supposed to disregard the fact you hate your life and you pretty much want to off yourself, just because you told me to?"

"I'm not suicidal, Hermione."

"THEN STOP ACTING LIKE IT!"

Hermione felt guilty once he fell silent at her outburst. Severus was one of the few people in the world who could make her lose her temper. She sighed. "People actually care for you, Severus. Just because your parents were rubbish doesn't mean everyone else is. If you just give us a chance, your life can be so much better."

His mouth was thin across his face. "I've given too many chances in the past, and only found that it's not worth the effort. In the end, I'm the one left standing, and perhaps its better that way."

_Lily,_ she thought. Of course it came back to Lily Evans. She was the only person he completely opened himself to, and with one slip of a word, she abandoned him. That had to be the reason he was so cold to everyone around him. Lily completely trusted Snape for a time. She always had pushed him to do his best and never wanted him hanging out with "the wrong sort." Harry had explained this to Hermione after Snape's death, when he had looked through the memories of their Potions Master.

Hermione was overwhelmed with the guilty feelings she experienced when she learned the truth about Snape and his loyalties. As his student, she always wanted to impress him, to win his favor, because she admired his courage and bravery. He was the professor she trusted the most. And then, when he murdered Dumbledore, she lost her faith in him. Just as Lily lost his faith in him years earlier.

If there was the smallest chance Hermione could remember that Snape was forever and always on their side in the future, she would make sure she would never abandon him the way his first love did to him. She had to make it happen.

Hermione stepped hesitantly towards him. When she knelt down next to him, Severus finally managed to look at her. Gently she rested her hands against his knees. Her eyes sparkled softly in the firelight. "Severus," she whispered, "I don't ever want to make you feel that way. I won't disappoint you like that. I'll never desert you. I'm for sure on that. Even if I'm a million miles away, and you commit the worst possible crimes and you think you have no chance of redemption, I'll never turn away. Even if I'm horrified by the truth of what has happened, you can count on me, Sev."

He closed his eyes and she saw the corner of his mouth almost curl into a small smile. "That's unfortunate. I guess that means I'll never have another moment of peace in my life."

Hermione chuckled and rested her head against the top of his knees. "You know you don't mind that. Life would otherwise be so dull without me." She closed her eyes and exhaled. Then, she felt a gentle touch on her scalp and she relaxed further. Severus was playing with her hair.

"You are muggleborn, aren't you? There would be no other explanation for your soapbox speech earlier." he said suddenly.

Hermione sighed, wondering why he had to bring up the issue again. "Must I repeat myself?" she said without moving from her position.

"Here I am, spilling my own heart out, and you can't answer even the smallest, minute, insignificant question I ask. Where's the justice?" he asked, a hand still running through her thick, soft chestnut curls.

She snorted. "Oh, come off it, Snape. You don't really care. You just want to annoy me.

He smirked. "I can't deny I wouldn't enjoy bantering you, but I do have other motives for my questioning."

"You're unbelievable," she said, huffing. "But be honest. If you knew what my Blood Status was, would it change who I am?"

Severus was silent for a moment. His hand stilled its stroking while he pondered her question. Finally, he spoke, with an air of humor in his voice. "Probably not. You'd still be an insufferable Gryffindor to me."

At her indignant huff, he laughed softy, and soon she joined in. "You wouldn't have me any other way, Severus." She raised her head and looked at him. Humor was glittering in his eyes as he softly returned her gaze.

"No. I can honestly say I wouldn't."


	18. 1978

_A/N: No studying until I get this chapter done. And it's a wonderful feeling. I am overwhelmed with the responses from the last chapter. I promise to respond to all the reviews. But I figured you'd want this chapter up before hand. Life has been beating me with a broomstick, which is my excuse for the late post. But I hope this makes up for your wait. _

* * *

**CHAPTER 18: 1978**

Even after a few days, Hermione was still recuperating from the effects of the infamous "Green Potion." Despite her inherent disgust for the whole project, Severus still insisted he had to name the elixir. Without a name, it would feel incomplete. So, judging from the psychological effects and the excruciating amounts of pain it inflicted, nothing seemed more appropriate than calling it 'The Dementor's Kiss.'

"Honestly, Severus. That sounds more like a cocktail drink," Hermione said, trying to behave as if the naming process didn't bother her at all.

"Nonsense," he retorted back, officially closing his research and notes with signatures and seals. "It's highly appropriate. I'm sure you've been in the presence of dementors. They take over your psyche. This potion did that and more."

"I know," she snapped angrily, "I actually tested it."

"I didn't force you to!" he replied bitterly, but with force. Hermione immediately regretted her slip. She should have known he was feeling guilty about the events that transpired over Christmas. He hovered around the work station, slouching and ignoring her presence.

Things were awkward from that moment onward. Hermione tried apologizing, but he brushed her off. Even as she tried to be polite, he only ignored her efforts.

In fact, a few days before the ringing in of the New Year, he seemed to have disappeared.

Hermione made a regular routine for the rest of the holiday. She woke up, had an early breakfast, studied and read in the library, and then usually met up with Severus to have lunch. However, he never turned up. Still, Hermione helped herself to some cold sandwiches in solitude, assuming he was caught up in new research in his private labs.

Quickly, she scurried to the Room of Requirement and paced back and forth, waiting for the doors to appear. Then, she began knocking. After the seventh rapt, the door was still not answered. Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion, and her hand automatically tried to work the handle, even though she knew it would unlatch.

To her surprise, the door actually did open.

For a moment, she stood there frozen, her hand stuck on the iron latch, disbelief written on her features. There was no way that Severus would have lowered his wards and enchantments to allow anyone beyond himself to enter his lab. Perhaps she thought of the wrong room? There was no way to find out unless she entered.

She gently pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold. The sconces on the walls immediately lit at her entrance and emitted a pleasant glow all around the large room. Hermione then looked all around her, expecting to see sights that were completely different than the lab she had become so accustomed to.

Except everything was the same.

She walked hesitantly toward the work station, as if the room would evaporate if she moved too quickly. Severus was too meticulous and too protective over his precious discoveries and possessions. His wards wouldn't have collapsed unless he was dead, and she was certain he hadn't died…yet. Could it be possible that he altered the wards to allow her access to the lab?

_Hell hath froze over, if that's the case,_ she mused. She smiled to herself as she ran her hand on top of the dark table top, approaching where he worked on that dreaded potion. It was strange to see the table cleared of parchment, ingredients, and the cauldrons.

Hermione bit her lip. Severus's absence was unnerving her, and seeing the cleared station made her think the worst of the situation. She sped off toward the cabinets, trying to find the ones full of potion samples and vials. But as she searched, the only remnants of his infamous experiment was a single, small four ounce sample vial.

_He hasn't gone missing, Hermione. Stop worrying. He's probably just avoiding you. Things have been pretty tense between you and him, _a part of her conscious argued.

_Well then, how do you explain the missing potion, you half-wit? He couldn't just clear the elixir with a wave of his wand. He has done something with it, and that explains his absence._

An overload of different situations raced within her mind. What if Severus retested the potion on himself and was lying alone, incapacitated somewhere, with no one to help him recover?

And then another horrible thought crossed her senses. What if Severus was delivering the potion to someone…

Hermione slowly shut the cabinet door and turned around on shaking feet, resting her back against the sturdy frame of the small oak door pantries. She smoothed back her unruly curls, feeling hopeless and defeated. All that effort for nothing. He was a Death Eater.

She felt her throat constrict and her eyes began to burn. No. She would not cry. He did this to himself, and his poor decisions would yield their desired outcomes.

Images of Severus flashes through her conscious like a slideshow. Him brooding over his cauldron when they first really began to interact a few weeks earlier. His intense stare as he tried to figure her out. The humor glittering in his eyes as he started to let his guard down. The gentle smile on his face as they sat in the open courtyard holding hands.

She remembered the pain in his eyes as she was about to test the formidable green potion. The care and comfort he offered her in his arms the rest of the evening. The intense heat his gaze held as they woke up in the morning, and that same look when Hermione almost gave in to her Gryffindor instincts and contemplated kissing him.

The tears could not be contained. Hermione slumped down onto the ground and sobbed. Her head was resting against the top of her knees and her whole body shook as she let the pain and sorrow course through her being.

Now the images of her mind were a catalyst for her tears. She remembered a sullen man, standing menacingly in front of a classroom of first years, long elegant fingers folded carefully on the coarse sleeves of his black robe. Then, a flash of that Quidditch Match, where she stood so close to him, praying silently that she would never be caught as the culprit who set her Potion Master's robe on fire. Then the faint recollection of the night they saved Sirius from the dementors, the gentle scent of him as he carried her back to the castle after she lost consciousness.

Then that horrid day when Malfoy cursed her teeth, and his jeering insult in return.

She choked as she remembered the intense admiration she felt for her Potions Master when she realized just what he was doing for the Order: risking his life for the Good of All. But she saw how much it fatigued him. How much it was wearing him down, playing the double agent.

Hermione lifted her head and wiped at her eyes. The man she knew was hardly the man she was spending so much time with. And yet, the same powerful expression could be seen in his eyes. His dark, mesmerizing eyes were the only thing about Severus that remained just the same.

And her proof was when the Death Eaters successfully infiltrated Hogwarts at the end of her sixth year. The pain, the terror, but the knowledge of duty gleamed in his eye as he told Luna and her to take care of Flitwick. Her mind recollected the events of that meeting...

_1998_

_Hermione checked her watch for the umpteenth time. She could feel tenseness in the air surrounding her. Luna even couldn't manage to remain her usual aloof self. Of course, she muttered a few comments about Snarglepuff toes being used to increase the potency of memory potions, but that was all at a loss to Hermione. She could only focus on the dungeon door that remained closed, hiding the Potions Master._

_She knew he was the only other person outside Dumbledore who could restore order if anything was to happen that evening._

_Still, the more the clocks ticked, the more anxious she was becoming. It was too silent in that vast castle. And yet, nothing happened that would alarm enough suspicion to alert Professor Snape. Suddenly, she could hear frantic steps speeding downwards. Professor Flitwick was squeaking in alarm._

"_Professor Snape! PROFESSOR SNAPE! DEATH EATERS IN THE CASTLE! COME QUICKLY, WE NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE!" In his rush, he didn't notice either of them standing nearby the Potions classroom and the office._

_The door swung open, and she saw Professor Snape stand aside to let the half-goblin enter the office. He himself was rushing to opposite sides of his small room, obviously gathering random things needed to assist in the fight. _

"_How did they get in, Filius?" he inquired. Hermione noted a hint of panic in his voice._

"_No one is quite sure, Severus. But they have infiltrated the Astronomy Tower and have been attacking our guards. It is too dangerous for us to retaliate as much as they are. We must protect the students!"_

"_Filius, you must remain calm. Dumbledore has been worried something like this would happen soon, now that the Dark Lord has been increasing his power. But naturally, he has a plan in all of this, and there's no way he would let the school fall in such circumstances." He paused. "Where is the Headmaster?"_

"_We think he left on an excursion earlier this evening, and is now cornered by the Death Eaters…"_

"_On the Astronomy Tower," Professor Snape finished. "I wouldn't be too worried. The Headmaster can easily defend himself from them. His powers are too great. However, our students are in jeopardy. We have to get the Death Eaters out."_

"_But we both know Dumbledore is not like he used to be. His arm…"_

"_Is stabilized," he finished for the Charms professor once more. "Filius, believe me. Professor Dumbledore is fully aware of the circumstances and is capable to overtake them if he wishes. Now, we can't waste any more time."_

_Hermione heard a loud thump and Professor Snape quickly exited his office, just as she was about to investigate as to what the thump was. They nearly collided. She looked up at him with concern, and the horror was evident in his own features._

_The mask went up as soon as it had fallen.. "It's too dangerous for you to be wandering the dungeons at night Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood," he hoarsely whispered, clutching his wand in a vice grip._

"_Professor," Hermione began, "We didn't mean to be wandering. We've all been worried about the welfare of the school, and we only assumed that if we remained near your office, we could find you quickly if anything was to happen."_

"_Now is not the time to discuss reasoning, Miss Granger. The school is under attack. We must all stand our guard and defend its walls."_

_If the realness of the situation wasn't happening, if the fear at the knowledge of her school was under siege, she would have been shocked to find that Professor Snape did not take off any points from Gryffindor, and was treating her like the adult she was. Like she was an equal, crucial part to the War._

"_Sir," she began again._

"_Professor Flitwick has collapsed in my office," he interrupted. " I believe the shock had finally gotten to him. You and Miss Lovegood need to see that he is alright."_

"_Sir, let me go with you," Hermione finally managed to intervene before he could interrupt her. "Luna can surely revive him without me, and you know I'm capable of fighting the Death Eaters with you."_

_His stare enveloped her as she threw back her shoulders and pulled out her wand, bravely ready to assist him. He placed a hand on her wrist, making her lower her wand. "No, Miss Granger. It is against my duty as a professor to put you in harms way. Stay here with Miss Lovegood and Professor Flitwick, and see to it that he remains calm. There are a few vials in my stores that can help. I trust you enough to know which ones to administer."_

_Her lower lip trembled, fearing the worst. "What will you do?" she whispered, knowing the answer. _

"_I will go help take down the Death Eaters. Nothing to fear. I am familiar of what they are capable of," he stated calmly. "Now, go. We are wasting time!"_

_He almost reached the steps when Hermione called out. "Professor Snape!"_

_He stopped his pace, and turned around almost exasperatedly, but relaxed at her words._

"_Thank you," she said solemnly. "Please be careful."_

_Something flickered in his eyes. Sadness, fear, horror. Raw emotion that she never thought Snape was capable of experiencing. But soon that mask was drawn up. He nodded politely in assurance, and raced back up the stairs to his fate…_

1977

From her position on the ground, Hermione could only hear the door creak open and soft footsteps enter the lab. Panicking, she furiously wiped at her face, clearing the wetness from her cheeks, but she couldn't erase the sadness on her features.

"Hermione? Are you here?" she heard Severus's soft voice break the silence.

She sighed and inhaled slowly, hoping her voice would not betray her mask. "Yes. Down here."

She heard his bag drop on the ground and quick footsteps rush over to where she rested on the ground. "What are you doing down there?" he asked with concern.

"I…I fell."

"You've been crying." He offered her a hand to help her up, which she took gratefully.

"Don't worry about it," she muttered in response, smoothing out her robes. At the harsh look he gave her, she rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Sev. You'd say I overreacted. No reason to explain."

"Try me."

Now, it was her turn to glare. Finally, she gave in. "Fine. I thought something happened to you. I haven't heard from you in days." The anger she held back behind the anxiousness and worry erupted suddenly. "What the hell, Severus!" she exclaimed, grabbing a nearby magazine on one of the cupboards and proceeded to beat him with it. "You leave here, not explaining where you were going. Not leaving a trace of contact information. I was worried SICK! What if something happened to you? What if you were killed? No one would have known where you have gone. Don't ever do that to me again. Ever! You hear me?"

Severus winced accordingly with her frantic beating. After blocking a subsequent blow to his face, he caught her wrist, stopping her actions.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked firmly, his grip tightening as she tried to pull away. Hermione seethed. Her hair was tousled, her limbs shaking, but she managed to nod.

"Good," he added gently. "Feel better now?"

She snorted. "For now. But I rather fancy using you as a punching bag." Her hard stare returned. "I'm not letting you get away with this, Severus. Where were you?"

He let go of her wrist. "Reg invited me to his home for a few days. He and I just arrived back to the castle for the Yule party in Hogsmeade tomorrow."

Hermione furrowed her brow in interest. "A Yule party?"

"Yes. The Three Broomsticks always throw one. I mean, Yule is technically celebrated on Christmas, but this seems like the more appropriate day to have a party." Severus raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You mean to tell me you weren't planning on going?"

"I didn't even realize they threw a New Years Eve celebration," she answered honestly.

Severus snorted with amusement. "Hell hath frozen over. The great Hermione Granger is not all-knowing."

Hermione playfully shoved him. "Need I remind you that I have never gone to school here?" She quirked her mouth to the side. "Are you asking me to go with you, Severus?"

"Absolutely not!" he stated assuringly. "I'm only spreading the word to those who are ignorant."

She rolled her eyes once more. "Bastard," she muttered. She then noticed he still had his cloak on. "Did you forget to raise your wards earlier?"

He stiffened slightly. "No…"

Even though he didn't say he adjusted his wards to allow her access to his labs, the lack of words confirmed some of Hermione's earlier musings, and she smiled. "I'm honored, Severus."

The air was heavy with tension, to what degree, Hermione couldn't place. But it seemed to render Severus speechless, so Hermione picked up her things to leave. "I guess I'll see you later."

When she reached the door, she heard him call out. "If you meet me here tomorrow around eight, we can make our way to Hogsmeade together."

She could feel the air crackle, full of unspoken words and anticipation. "I'd love to." And she left the labs in a much better mood than before.

* * *

Despite her wishes, Hermione could not shake the exciting feeling that coursed through her veins for the next 24 hours. Even though nothing was stated directly, she knew her evening with Severus was implied as something more than just a usual outing. The look in his eyes, so smoldering, could not deny the truth. The line was about to be crossed.

Naturally, when one was anticipating an eventful night, they wanted to look their best. Hermione couldn't remember another day that her hair and image gave her a harder time. The frizziness would not subside and she had to use a bottle and a half of Sleekeazy to get it to be manageable. Finally, she got it tied up in an elegant twist on the side of her head, with a few stray tendrils framing her face.

Now, to talk wardrobe, which Hermione had of a limited supply. School robes would not be appropriate for such an event. Thankfully, she gathered enough courage to rummage through some of her other roommates belongings, and was satisfied with her findings. All it needed was a few minor alterations.

The emerald green gown was designed for…present day fashion. To Hermione, that meant it was hideous. Too much rushing. And she believed that the sleeves shouldn't be bigger than her hair. With a flick of her wand, they were cleanly removed. She kept the bodice gently rushed, with an almost sweetheart neckline, and to make up for the missing sleeves, she extended the chiffon on the skirt to wrap around her neck in a halter style, tied into an elegant bow on the back of the gown.

When Hermione admired herself in the mirror, she was impressed with the results of her alterations. Perhaps she could have a future in fashion design. The delicate chiffon and silk flowed gracefully midcalf, And after donning on some makeup and her matching satin heels, she felt she could finally make Severus's knees grow weak. This thought made her smile.

She transfigured her ordinary robe to match her outfit and made her way to Severus's labs, heels clicking on the stone floor with the fast pattering of her heart. Her only coherent thought was how Severus would react.

When she reached the blank stone wall, her excited smile fell. Severus wasn't the man standing there. Rather, it was Regulus.

He heard her steps falter and turned to face her. Despite her disappointment, Hermione enjoyed the appraisal from the other Slytherin. His eyes grew wide with surprise and she noted that he took in her full presence.

"Wow, Granger," Regulus began, rewarding her with his handsome smile, "You look absolutely stunning."

Hermione looked away shyly. "Thanks, Reg. You look quite dashing yourself." She grew quiet and searched around the hallway for her intended, but there wasn't a sign of him anywhere. "Where's Severus?"

Regulus offered her his arm, which she politely took. "He's running late, but he asked me to escort you to the party. Don't worry, he's not standing you up," he added at the disappointed look on her face. "It is only proper that a lady like yourself does not enter a party unaccompanied. Very unbecoming otherwise."

Despite her numerous conversations with Sirius about the terrible nature of his little brother, Hermione was surprised once more at the pleasantness of Regulus's company. He didn't seem at all hostile or vengeful of any sort. He was polite, and a perfect gentleman, opening doors and offering her his coat when they began to venture off the school grounds toward the town.

They exchanged pleasantries, joking here and there about Severus and his habits. When they grew quiet, Hermione took in her surroundings. The sky was clear and the air crisp. She could sense that snow would start falling soon. The stars, numerous in the vast ceiling above her, were twinkling. They reminded her of Severus's eyes when he looked at her in that particular way she loved.

"May I ask you something, Hermione?" Regulus began as they entered the High Street.

"Of course," she said.

"What are your intentions with Severus?" he asked gently.

They both stopped walking and Hermione bit her lower lip. She had to phrase this carefully. "It's a bit complicated, Reg. I do care for him, greatly, but…" her voice faded, and she sighed. "It's just, he tells me he can't be involved with me, and then his actions speak otherwise. Plus the fact that I'll be escaping from here in a few months just doesn't make the situation ideal. I don't know…"

"Yes, you both have a lot on your plates. What, with you escaping the Ministry and Severus being recruited. You two don't need anymore distraction as it is."

"Recruited?" Hermione squeaked. "Recruited for what? I understand he was mettling with a lot of creepy things, but being recruited?"

Regulus got himself into a mess. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn't answer her question, but guided her towards the pub.

"I'm not stupid, you know," Hermione snapped at him, and he froze. "It's the Death Eaters."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," he whispered in response.

"It's not right what you're doing."

"I thought you said you didn't want to be involved with our war," Regulus retorted. He let go of her arm with resentment. "You know, I tried convincing Snape you were full of it, and he had me almost convinced that you were on our side. He said you had initiative, spirit, and vast knowledge. And it turns out you are nothing but a twat."

"Reg, just because I don't agree with you doesn't mean I'm out to destroy you," she argued back. "I have no right to tell you what to do. I barely know you. I don't know why you make the decisions you do. Perhaps you are rebelling from the social norm. Being a Pureblood would probably do that to you. But I just want you to know, that it is never too late to change your mind."

Regulus looked at her as if she was crazy, but this didn't dismay Hermione. She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling politely back up at him. Then, she led him inside the pub. Reg didn't say much as he took off his cloak and handed it to the house elves standing by the entrance. But he still had the decency to help her out of her own.

"Thank you, by the way," she said softly to him. "It was nice of you to escort me here."

Regulus shook his head and smiled slightly. "Woman, you may be one of the best looking witches at school, but you also may be off your rocker."

She laughed and they parted ways. Hermione began her search of the other Slytherin. But even that was pulled from her mind as she took in the surroundings of that decorated restaurant.

The large booths were missing from their usual places and numerous smaller tables were scatter all about the floor. They were decorated with elegant centerpieces of dancing sugar plum fairies, and more twinkling lights were aligned around the border of the wall and ceilings.

Smaller Christmas trees were in each corner of the room, each decorated for a subsequent house of Hogwarts. Red, green, blue, and yellow ornamentation and lights respectfully. In the middle of the room there stood one of the largest indoor trees Hermione had ever seen. To her eye, the tree was depicting the grand history of Hogwarts, of trials and sufferings, of the existence of man and of the world. It was breathtaking.

Long tables stood in front of the trees, lined with decadent sweets and cakes. Two large punch bowls of egg nog were at opposite ends of the table, and she could see the various guests dressed in their finest, helping themselves to the delicious confections that kept refilling themselves at will.

All the house elves were dressed like Christmas elves. _'Tis the season, after all,_ Hermione thought. They were quite cute. At the opposite wall, she could hear the barmaid taking orders for other drinks, so Hermione made her way to get something stiffer than the egg nog. In the end, she was quite nervous and full of anticipation, waiting for Severus to arrive, or dreading the idea that he wouldn't.

After ordering two Black Santas, Hermione began feeling a little more relaxed and was enjoying the overall atmosphere of the party. Even a few wizards noticed that she was unaccompanied, and with some liquid courage, they asked her for a dance, which she politely declined, saying she was waiting up for a guest.

Still, over an hour passed, and there was no sign of Severus at all throughout the vicinity. She moved away from the bar, trying to get rid of the temptation to drink herself into a stupor in order to ignore the bitter disappointment. But it was hard to be completely dismayed. The celebration and happiness around her was contagious.

Happy couples were dancing all over the floor as Hermione helped herself to another treacle tart. Her foot was tapping to the beat of the song, and she swished her skirt playfully a few times, laughing along with the rest of the crowds.

In a heartbeat, she could feel eyes on her as she conversed with a few of the guests around her, but she ignored the sensation. It was all too familiar, especially since she felt it for the first time in her classes at Hogwarts. A few subtle glances across the room confirmed that Severus had finally arrived. He was standing near the bar, holding a glass of what appeared to be brandy, and staring intensely at her.

Hermione couldn't bear it anymore, and finally met his heated gaze. She smiled back at him, playfully beckoning him to approach her, which he did with a smooth and slow pace. All so elegant.

Despite the numerous amounts of voices echoing all about them, the silence between the young couple was deafening. Just the way Severus took in her appearance was enough to take her breath away.

"You look absolutely…._beautiful,_" Severus whispered to her.

A big smile spread across her face. "You look quite debonair yourself, Severus," she responded with full honesty. His elegant black dress robes were classic, almost like the way he presented himself in the future as a professor, but something was slightly different. Maybe it was the knowledge that he was her equal, and there was no separation of professor/student.

He also managed to pay attention to his hair. It hung softly across his face, very unlike the way in hung like curtains normally. With his tall posture and fleeting smile, he was handsome in a very Severus Snape unique way.

Severus ushered her to a pair of vacant seats near them, and they set down their plates and glasses. Hermione managed to reach over and grasp his hand in hers, and she was relieved he didn't pull away.

"I thought you weren't going to show," Hermione admitted to him.

Severus stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "I made you a promise, didn't I?"

She snorted. "It sounded like an invitation, actually. Not a promise."

He shrugged his shoulders and took another sip from his glass, his eyes glancing to the different sights across the room. Still, he didn't let go of her hand.

"I assume Regulus wasn't a complete git, then?" he said.

It was Hermione's turn to shrug her shoulders. "Well, he did call me a twat, but that's because he claims I am distracting you."

Severus's hand went rigid and he gently pulled away, trying to use the cakes to cover up h is coldness. He never responded, so Hermione took the reins once more.

"What kept you, Severus?" she whispered, almost pleadingly.

He refused to make eye contact. "Nothing really important. Just taking care of some business. Boring stuff."

"It couldn't have waited?"

"No," he responded shortly.

Severus must have noticed how upset Hermione was at his vague response. He stood up and offered a hand to her. "It wouldn't be proper if I didn't ask you to dance with me," he replied to her questioning gaze.

That soft smile returned to her face as the music began to slow down to a more, sensual, slower pace. Hermione felt a strong hand falling on her hip, and her other hand being raised to meet his. He would settle in that more traditional dancing position, she mused.

She heard a soft rumble in his chest. "What is so humorous to you, Sev?"

His chuckle only intensified. "I just feel your choice of wardrobe is more appropriate for a Slytherin. I must have some sort of influence on you. I have reason to believe I'll knock the rest of your Gryffindor sensibilities out of you yet." In response, Hermione huffed impatiently, squeezing his arm painfully, but that only fed his humor more. Still, she gave up her grudge and the closeness of him and his soft, masculine scent was taking over her consciousnes. She leaned in closer to his warmth.

"Hermione," she heard him whisper. She pulled back her head to see him gazing down at her, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face as he played with a stray tendril of her hair. "I…I want to be completely honest with you."

She bit her lip and nodded gently at him. "Of course, Severus," she reassured him.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, still gently spinning her on the dance floor. "Hermione, you are the most brilliant witch I have ever met. I'm sure you already know that." He paused, and she looked away sheepishly. "That's why I think you shouldn't have to be running away from anything anymore."

That was something she was not expecting to hear. "What are you talking about, Severus?" she asked, a bit worried where the conversation was leading.

He pulled her in closer to him, pressing her body against his. "Hermione, you and I…we have to be two of the most intelligent minds on this planet. We could do great things together, if we could be on the same side of the picture. If anyone was to bother you or threaten you in anyway, you have the power that exceeds theirs. They couldn't stop you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Her heart was beating rampantly in her chest, but she couldn't find the words to say what she felt. She couldn't even muster the strength to look at him directly. Hermione felt his hand on her chin, and he turned her face to meet his. "Hermione, please, join me. Join us. Great power awaits you…awaits us…if we fight together. We need you. I can't bear to think that we could succeed with everything if you aren't with me."

The passion in his eyes was overwhelming, and Hermione wished that she could say yes to him. To his cause. To the Death Eaters. Power was always a temptation, but that was what set the difference between the Dark wizards to the ones fighting them. Dark wizards would never fight their desires. They would succumb, and despite her intense feelings for the man, she could not sacrifice all she did for power.

She felt her throat close up and tears began to form in her eyes. She shook her head violently. "I'm sorry, Severus. There are things…things that I haven't told you about me that would make you change your mind about all of this. You don't want a witch like me to be fighting your fight."

He looked at her as if she was crazy. "That's impossible. Whatever the truth is, I assure you, I can get past it. You are invaluable to me." He pulled her in close once more and stroked the back of her head. "I could never judge you like that."

She was torn, and buried her face in his shoulder. "You may see me like that, but no one else will. I'm sorry, I can't."

"Then at least explain to me why. Hermione, you can trust me. Please," he whispered.

That was her undoing. Hermione pulled back and opened her eyes. He was looking at her so gently, she wanted to cry. The truth would only destroy what she had with him, but she had no other choice.

"Your Death Eaters won't have anything to do with me, Severus. And rightly so. Because I'm a mudblood. And I wouldn't want the satisfaction of them destroying who I am because of my Blood Status."

Severus froze in place, utter shock written on his features. That was enough indication for Hermione to leave as soon as she could. She whispered her apologies and fled the dance floor, tears slowly rolling down her face. There was no way Severus would ever associate himself with her again.

The clock read five minutes to midnight, but Hermione didn't care. She just wanted to be in the safe confines of the castle wall. She gave the house elf her name so he could fetch her cloak and leave as quickly as possible.

She could hear the excited murmuring of the crowd in the main room as she left the pub. They were beginning the countdown, all pouring glasses of champagne to toast in the New Year. Snow was falling gently on the quiet streets, and she was grateful that she was alone.

Then, she heard him call out her name. And against her better wishes, she turned around.

Severus was holding two flutes of the bubbling liquid and he slowly approached her, his cloak gently billowing in the slight breeze. Snowflakes landed on his hair and shoulders, contrasting to the dark ebony of the fabric.

"I got you something to toast with…" he began awkwardly.

She brushed him aside and continued to walk up the high street. "No thank you, Severus. I'm in no mood to celebrate."

"Need I remind you that I wasn't the one to leave," he stated firmly. "You didn't even give me a chance to respond."

Her feet stopped moving and she looked up at him bewildered. In the end, she didn't think she wanted to hear his reaction. Suddenly, he was a hairs length away from her, and he brushed that stray tendril of hair behind her ear. "I don't care where you come from," he whispered.

The crowd in the pub was chanting down the seconds to the New Year, but all Hermione could hear was the sound of her heart beating. Her breathing hitching in her throat as she felt his hand gently cup her cheek. She felt his thumb gently grazing her smooth skin and she saw his eyes glitter in that same, fiery passion that rarely was shown to others.

Ten seconds. His breathing was increasing. Seven seconds. She saw him begin lowering his face to hers. Four seconds. Her eyes closed. And as the crowd inside began cheering and singing, she felt his lips on hers.

His mouth was gentle, making the faintest brush against her soft lips, as if the idea would startle her and she would push him away. Instead, she dropped the useless glass in her hand and wound her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Time stood still. Hermione couldn't place how long they stood there in the open road. Maybe a second, maybe an entire hour. But all that mattered at that moment was his arms holding her close against him. His lips doing wonders to hers. His tongue begging entrance to her mouth, which she obliged. This whole matter felt so perfect.

When they pulled away breathless, a flush creeped on both of their faces, but not from the cold. He chuckled and she smiled vaguely, burying her face in the warmth of his cloak.

"Happy New Year," he whispered to her with such promise.

Yes, it was, indeed.


	19. Blinded By A Hoax

_A/N: If I apologize, will it make things better? I'M SORRY FOR MAKING Y'ALL WAIT. Life was crazy. And then I liked having time to relax once things settled down. That's why it took me a week and a half to write this once things ended. But commend me for getting this up before finals start. :) I appreciate all the feedback I've received the past few weeks. Thanks again for tuning in. Hopefully I won't make you wait a month again. _

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**CHAPTER 19: BLINDED BY A HOAX**

The two of them soon left the streets and made their way back to the castle, hand in hand. Despite her conscious telling her to act her age, that giddy puppy-love feeling rushed through her. A silly grin was plastered on her face, and with the additional cold air biting at her cheeks, her facial muscles began to hurt. But why complain about happiness? Everything was falling into place.

They walked in silence. Occasionally, they would steal glances from one another. Often times, Severus made sure the curtains of his hair covered his face partially, so as to hide the mirrored feelings erupting on his face that usually were not there. But he couldn't hide it from her. Hermione knew he felt just as surreal as she did.

He squeezed her hand as they began climbing the slope that led to the iron wrought gate of the school. She giggled quietly and looked over at him, biting her lower lip bashfully. His black eyes glittered and he brought her hand to his mouth, gently brushing his lips on the back of her hand. This just made her smile more.

Everything was so magical. The snow was falling softly still. However, Hermione knew that it would start coming down more heavily. Hopefully by then, she would be wrapped up in Severus's arms somewhere, curled up in front of a warm, crackling fire. It was hard to imagine how anything could go wrong.

As they entered the castle, Hermione couldn't remember another time the large stone walls and corridors were so quiet. Even the ghosts were not to be seen. It was incredibly peaceful, almost as if they wanted to give the young couple some privacy. Albeit, students were still on holiday, but it was known that the magical creatures throughout the castle could throw a party just as well as the next wizard (the food could be questioned, however).

Severus walked Hermione back to her common room, and yet she didn't want to end the evening. He reluctantly let go of her hand. "Well, I hope you enjoyed your first Yule Party," he said as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Hermione laughed softly and reached out again for his hand, squeezing it gently. "That is an understatement." She looked at him with such emotion in her eyes. "You…you really are something, Severus. Most people would judge me, but you accept me for who I am."

She hoped it was just a trick from the moonlight, but Hermione swore she saw him stiffen a little. "Well, I know you would do the same for me. You even told me yourself you wouldn't desert me. I can only do the same for you."

Hermione was touched by his words. She took a step toward him and brought her hand up to cup his face gently. "Thank you," she whispered softly, leaning in closer to capture his lips once more.

Her hand made its way to the back of his head. Severus moaned quietly in her mouth as she allowed his tongue to become tangled with hers. His hands quickly fell to her hips, bringing her closer to his own body, and she could feel him responding to her ministrations.

They pulled apart breathless. Hermione wrapped her arms around him in an intimate embrace, and she felt his chin rest gently on top of her curly locks. She smiled into his chest, thinking about the past few days. How could she have even thought he joined the Death Eaters, when he was being so open with her? At that moment, she felt like nothing could go wrong.

"Stay with me," she whispered pleadingly, without hesitation. For what reason, she couldn't place. She didn't know what would transpire if he joined her in her empty dormitory, but Hermione never wanted to be out of his arms ever again.

Severus chuckled quietly, running a gentle caress up and down her back. "If only it were that simple, Hermione."

Just as soon as it began, she felt Severus go rigid in the comforting embrace, which alarmed Hermione. "Are you okay?" she asked, hesitantly. She feared that he, all of the sudden, changed his mind about the unfolding events of the evening. Maybe he even regretted it all.

He pulled away suddenly. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just…getting late," he finished in a rush. Hermione thought it sounded like he was biting back some pain. His gaze softened slightly at her concern. "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't worry."

Hermione didn't say anything back, but bit her lip while she nodded in return. Severus folded his arms across his chest and turned to make his way back to the dungeons, leaving her feeling suddenly cold, confused, and ultimately alone…

* * *

Reluctantly, Hermione went to bed as soon as she got to her room. Everything had been surreal. Severus wasn't deserting her for knowing the truth. In fact, he wanted her, just like she wanted him. She could still feel his lips on hers. But something was strange when they said goodnight, and it irked Hermione to no end.

And, to her utter dismay, when she met up with Severus the next day, he acted like everything was normal. Meaning, it was like the previous night never happened. A part of Hermione was sure everything had been a dream and that her fantasies ran away with her. But there were moments when they were working in the lab that she felt Severus stare at her when he thought she wasn't looking. And when their glances met unintentionally, such fiery passion shown in them that it took all of Hermione's willpower not to run up into his arms and kiss him senselessly.

Still, he didn't try to bring up the party, or even make an attempt to talk about their relationship. Seeing that he was uncomfortable with the whole ordeal, Hermione didn't dare to bring it up either. She sadly was accepting that he regretted everything from that night, and perhaps it was better to just be acquaintances.

Early January arrived and the new term began. The rest of the students arrived back at the school, so it was a pleasant distraction for Hermione to goof off with the rest of the Marauders. In fact, she barely made anytime to go and see Severus. A part of her conscience pleaded for her to go and find him. She missed him terribly. But it was better this way. They crossed the line, and it would take too much time and effort to fix what had been broken.

Hermione was musing to herself in the common room, lost in her thoughts about Severus. Lily had just walked in, and noticed the frequency the other girl had been in the dorms for the past few days. It was not typical of her.

"You okay, Hermione?" Lily asked with concern.

Hermione sighed. "I should be. I'm just…reminiscing."

The red head sat down next to her on the sofa, throwing her hair up into a messy bun and reclining back. "How was your holiday?"

Hermione smile somberly. "It was…absolutely amazing…"

Lily furrowed her brow. "But…I'm sensing something happened."

Hermione didn't want to meet Lily's gaze. To be honest, she wasn't sure how the other girl would react when she heard of how far her relationship had progressed with Severus in such a short amount of time. However, Lily already had her own assumptions.

"Did Snape do something to you?" she asked with all seriousness.

Hermione looked at her with alarm. "Oh, no. Nothing like that, don't worry, Lils. I know you haven't talked to him in ages, but you know he would never force himself on someone else without their consent."

"Well then, what happened?" Lily asked softly, hoping not to arouse the interests of other students around her. "You and Sev were inseparable last term."

"Yes…well…" Hermione began blushing.

Lily's green eyes widened. "Oh, Merlin! You and Severus? I…I can't believe it," she uttered with surprise. And Hermione could note a sense of sadness as well.

"It was only a kiss, Lily," she assured her. "But…well…it was the best kiss I had ever had." Hermione bit her lower lip. "Now he has barely looked at me since then. It's like he never wanted it to happen."

Lily sighed. "I'm sure he doesn't, Hermione. Sev, well, he always thinks he's unworthy of something great. You are just another one of those great things, like I was." Lily's eyes glistened with sorrow, remembering her close relationship with the Slytherin.

"Do you miss him?" Hermione asked her hesitantly.

Lily shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "He was my best friend. I'd be crazy not to miss him."

The question burned in her throat. "Did you love him?"

Lily swallowed deeply, carefully examining her clasped hands. "That's so hard to answer, Hermione. A part of me did love him. He was always there for me since I was a little girl. I could talk to him about anything and I k new he would never betray my confidence. I really wish things didn't have to end up the way that they did. But, we both decided to go down different paths, and it was inevitable that things had to end."

They both were quiet for a few moments, sharing their silent concern for the same, distraught Slytherin student. Hermione observed Lily. It was obvious the split was still taking a toll on her. Perhaps not on a regular basis did she think about it. It was like a fresh scab on an open wound. It was healing, and yet if it was disturbed, the pain could rush right back.

"I do think about him a lot," Lily continued to speak. "He always had high dreams for himself, planning everything around the goals he set. Is he still like that?"

"In ways, yes, he is," Hermione answered, smiling slightly. "I never met anyone more vigilant than him. He won't take no for an answer, and he'd do just about anything to get to the top."

Lily chuckled. "Typical Slytherin." Silence, then, "Is there still time for him?"

Hermione knew exactly what she was referring to, and she wished she could be sure of the answer. "I'm not sure, Lily. It's so confusing. One second, he's perfectly rational, not wanting to jeopardize anything, and the next minute he says he doesn't have a choice. But he's been involved with some of them. Private experiments and the like."

Lily straightened up. "Private experiments? What kind? Please tell me he isn't planning on attacking the students."

Hermione shook her head violently. "No! No, he's not. It's just, different types of potion. Mild concoctions based on various jinxes." No way could she tell her the truth. She would not be rational.

"Still…maybe we should tell Dumbledore…"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed in a panic. "He hasn't harmed anyone yet. And…and that would destroy any progress I made with him so far. Regulus and I are the only two who knows what he's been up to."

Lily bit her lip in nervousness. "Hermione, if anything would happen to the student body because of him, and we both had prior knowledge about it, you realize we'd be held responsible?"

"Severus is not insane. We can trust him. He wouldn't do anything that bombastic."

Lily looked at her with some skepticism, but finally sighed, nodding with her. Hermione stood up to leave, but the red head still had one final question to ask her.

"Does he ask about me? Severus, I mean. Does he miss me at all?"

Hermione looked back at her, seeing the pain etched in her face and the glistening moisture in her eyes. "Lily, Severus loves you. He will always love you. Everything he does in his life happens because he's thinking of you." She sighed. "And that's probably why everything is so complicated between us. I don't think he will ever let you go."

Lily's lower lip began to tremble and she closed her eyes. "I loved him. I really did. And a part of me will always be his. I won't ever deny it." She opened her eyes, smiling slightly. "Don't hate me if I am a little jealous of what you two have. I miss it terribly. James…I love him too. But let's face it, every relationship is different, and some of what I had with Severus can never be replicated anywhere else. But I always have the memories."

Lily's tears tugged at Hermione's heart strings. "You know, if the two of you reconciled, you could get some closure."

She shrugged her shoulders. "We'll see. I have thought about it, but I couldn't face the rejection if he didn't accept my apology. But that might have to be a risk I take."

Hermione hesitated with her next question. "Do you want me to tell him that you asked about him?"

Lily smiled politely. "I need to do it by myself, but thank you, Hermione. I feel better about it already." Hermione nodded, and then tried to leave once more. Lily stopped her for a second time. "You know, if you want to try and take the first step forward with Severus, his birthday is in a few days. Maybe you can do something special for him."

Hermione's heart leapt. That would be the perfect way to patch things up with him. Or at least convince him he's worth more than he made himself out to be.

* * *

After intense research, Hermione decided the best gift to get for Severus would be academic related, particularly towards the Healing Arts. After returned to his lab while he was in class, she rummaged through the titles of the spines, relieved to see that the one she had ordered was not in his collection.

_The Magical Art of Healing_ was a book that was widely popular among established Healers. The contents inside the book were virtually unknown to the wizards and witches who weren't involved in Healing, thus making it extremely difficult to access a copy. However, Hermione would not let this deter her feat. After contacting a few of the professors and a few of those Pureblood families who weren't completely skeptical of her, she discovered that Regulus's great-great-great-uncle was a former Healer, and in fact bestowed upon the Black legacy a first edition of the tome.

She didn't know how it worked so perfectly, but Regulus barely put up a fight with the book. He wasn't interested in Medical Magic, and a part of him wanted to still rebel against his family ties. So, for a hefty bargain (Hermione agreed to completed all of his assignments for the rest of his career at Hogwarts), he gave her the book. Her excitement almost made her magic spark involuntarily.

Her plan the following morning took a turn for the worse the next morning, however. Hermione wanted to have breakfast with the Slytherins, albeit before the Death Eater gang arrived. Severus usually had his meal early so that wasn't a problem.

The problem was that Hermione couldn't remember the last time Severus looked so sullen, downcast, and fearful. He sat down at the far end of the bench, staring fiercely at the Daily Prophet propped up against the quarts of milk.

Perhaps she could cheer him up. Hermione went around behind him and covered his eyes with her hands. "I've got a surprise for you, Sev."

He was startled at her sudden arrival and reflexively caught her wrists in a vise grip. "Damn it, Hermione," he exclaimed when he realized it was her. "You can't just sneak up on a person like that."

Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit annoyed with his acerbic greeting. "Good morning to you too, you git. What's got your wand in a knot?"

"Nothing," he snapped and returned to eating his cereal.

Hermione sat down next to him with a frown on her face. This was not good. "Today's your birthday," she exclaimed awkwardly.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for your obvious deduction," he said sarcastically.

She huffed in response. "You know, I don't understand why you are being so difficult to me these past couple of days. I don't recall killing your pet snake or tearing up your homework."

"Yes, well that's because I have lost my patience and faith with the commonalities of the ordinary wizarding race. Now, will you please leave me alone?"

"For Merlin's sake, Sev. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday and give you the gift I got you."

"The only thing you're giving me right now is a headache, and that's not something a person appreciates as a pleasant sentiment."

Hermione felt like she was slapped across the face, but instead of getting upset, she only got angrier. Severus returned his undivided attention to the newspaper again.

"What's so interesting in there that you have to reread a hundred times?" she quipped, ripping the paper from his hands.

"You wench!" he cried, his hands forming into clenched fists, but Hermione didn't care. The article that Severus was intensely studying made her think the worst.

_Mandatory Loyalty Tests Motioned by Wizengamot_

_By Archibald Delane, Daily Prophet Correspondent_

_As the war between the rebel forces and the Ministry loyalists escalate, members of the Wizengamot have presented a proposal regarding the support of the fighting sides of the parties._

_Recent findings that were contributed by an unknown source has revealed that the rebel group, known as 'Death Eaters' have formed an alliance with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by being 'marked' as a member of his coalition._

_The design of the actual mark has yet to be identified, but the general location is said to be on the left forearm of the rebel's arm, sources say._

_The Wizengamot, in light to the news, are arranging specific spell and enchantments to test on those subjects who are suspected in engaging in Dark Magic powerful enough to conjure such a brand. The members hope to have the vote in by the end of the week, and they plan on appointing respected members to help begin the process of testing individuals for the Mark._

"_As the War escalates," senior member Renald Bolknus contributed, "Everyone at the Ministry can only hope that we all are fighting for the same cause. Any type of discourse regarding the allegiance of Ministry members and public workers could jeopardize our entire race. It is important that we remove any conflict of interest regarding the motives and beliefs of our fellow colleagues."_

_The testing will be performed on all Ministry positions, as well as any business, both private and public in direct affiliation with the Ministry. The testing will also be mandatory for all those in training for these future positions, including Aurors, Curse-Breakers, and Healers._

_The Ministry encourages anyone with questions to send an owl to the Wizengamot Court. Along the lines of loyalty testing, if anyone has suspected Dark activity or is suspicious of a fellow colleague regarding their participation with the Death Eaters, they are urged to contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately._

Hermione's hands shook as she set down the paper. There would be no reason for Severus to be upset at this article, unless….

Severus stood up abruptly, grabbing his bag and quickly left the table before Hermione could interrogate him on the issue. Quick on her reflexes from the numerous battles she fought in the War, she was on her feet and tailing him in seconds.

"Stop following me!" he shouted when he heard her footsteps echo behind his.

"Not until we get a few things straight, Snape!" she called back.

"There's nothing to discuss that is any of your business, so piss off!"

That was the last straw. Hermione with anger threw a jelly-leg jinx at Severus, making his footing falter. Still with persistence, he wobbled across the entrance hall, adamant about getting as far from Hermione as possible. When he reached the steps to go down towards the dungeons, his own efforts to walk were thwarted and he started tumbling down the flight.

A wave of guilt and panic coursed through Hermione when she saw Severus disappear down the steps. She ran towards the stone stairs. Severus was sprawled out at the bottom of the flight. His wrist was jutting out in an odd angle and a painful grimace was plastered on his face.

She rushed down the steps and knelt down next to him. Aside from the broken wrist, a few cuts on his head were oozing blood, probably from where his head made contact with the edge of a step. There would be bruises elsewhere once a few hours had passed.

Severus was hissing in pain, squeezing his eyes shut while trying to sit up. Hermione bit her lip and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe some of the blood off his face. With his good arm, he pushed her roughly away.

"Don't. Touch. Me," he whispered venomly.

"I…I didn't want to hurt you," she responded weakly.

"Like hell you didn't!" He touched his bleeding cut on his cheek. "Bloody hell. Can't you just mind your own business?"

"Let me help you to the Hospital Wing," she offered, holding out her arm in assistance.

He glared at her. "I can fix this myself, no thanks to you. Now, leave me alone!" He moved gingerly, trying to move his weight off his broken right wrist. Hermione instinctively reached out and gently supported his good limb, holding onto his forearm, despite his demands.

As soon as she touched his arm, he hissed. And then, everything connected.

Hermione began to tremble. "Why did you just flinch? You…you didn't fall on your left arm…" For the first time, she saw fear glitter in his eyes. Severus tried to wrench his arm out of her grip, but she just tightened her hold on him.

With vigor, she twisted his left arm so his forearm was facing her, and she pulled back the sleeves of his robes. There, glittering in all its horror, was the Dark Mark.

She dropped his arm like it burned her, but she couldn't take her eyes off the brand. Millions of thoughts were going through her head, but one stuck out prominently. _I was too late._

"Why?" was the only thing Hermione could whisper.

The expression in his eyes was unreadable. Severus was clenching his jaw involuntarily. Blood trickled down his face, and yet he still maintained the distant demeanor. "I decided they can advance me in ways that my own efforts could never achieve."

Hermione swallowed, feeling bile rise up in her throat. "I remember you saying you didn't have a choice. Now, you're consciously deciding you want to be a…a…a Death Eater?"

Severus narrowed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Yes. I want to be a Death Eater," he emphasized coldly.

"When…when did this happen?" she stammered, feeling utterly hopeless.

He finally managed to stand up, towering over Hermione. "Over holiday when I was with Regulus."

"So that's also why you were late to the Yule Party. And that's why you begged me to join you. And you were summoned last night when we parted, weren't you?"

"That, and everything else, is none of your business. And I didn't beg," he declared.

Hermione stood up swiftly. This wasn't possible. Hermione refused to believe what she heard. What she had seen. "I don't believe you," she whispered.

"The proof is on my arm, you filthy mu…" He stopped short before uttering that terrible word, as if he caught himself.

At his falter, she found her proof. She stood her ground, standing a hairs-length away from him. Eye to eye. Nose to nose. "Say it," she uttered, "Say it. Call me that formidable word, and I'll believe you. Say it, you coward."

She saw his mouth open, forming the word, but nothing came out. He was seething. Hermione couldn't decide whether it was from anger or pain. "No," he said with contempt. "I will not be forced to say anything just to please the likes of you."

"If you were a true Death Eater, you would," she spat.

People walked past them, mostly Slytherins going to have a meal. They noticed the scuffled and tried to ignore the scuffle as much as they could. Getting involved would only get messy. All they saw was a seething Gryffindor and a cut-up bloody Slytherin. Anything said or done was disregarded.

"You've signed your life away Severus," Hermione choked. "I've tried. I've tried so hard to get you to see the right side of things. And all was thwarted because your selfishness took over and you convinced yourself that this group can make your life grand. Well guess what, you were blinded by a hoax! _I. Give. Up_."

Hermione expected a bitter attack, but he took her by surprise. Instead of a cold defensive retort, Severus began to chuckle sinisterly. "Hermione, you and I have so much in common. First off, as you so eloquently put, you yourself are blinded by a hoax you set up for yourself. Do you really think you are being noble by trying to save my life? No! You are doing it for your own selfish motives. At least I can admit I have ambition, and that I will do anything to get to the top. You have successfully convinced yourself you are an altruistic saint. And the sad thing is you actually believe you've done nothing wrong! You're nothing buy an ignorant hypocrite."

He shoved her away with his good arm, pushing past her to walk down the steps. "And to think, I convinced myself you were different, Hermione. That one day, you'd see me for who I was and not pass judgment. To hell with that. You are just like everyone else. Once you learned the truth, you pick up your things and move on. Go to hell, Hermione."

All Hermione could do was stare after him. She was at a loss for words. And to her horror, there was a truth in what he said, even if he didn't know the whole story. The whole ordeal she found herself in wouldn't have even happened if she wasn't so desperate to save Severus. It was only to satisfy her own guilty conscience for doubting her professor's allegiance from the beginning.

"You'll regret it, Severus. Mark my words!" she called out after him. But it was no use. Severus Snape was already gone, in every sense of the word. He was out of the stairwell. He was a Death Eater. And in the future, he was dead.

Hermione did the only other thing she could think of. She cried.


	20. The Worst News Imaginable

_A/N: Yes, so this "chapter" is about 7/8 shorter than my usual chapters. My apologies right now, but when I finished writing this out, it seemed appropriate as is. It's not what I planned, but that's what you get with a WIP. Please do not kill me. I'll work on the next portion as soon as possible. In the meantime, please leave your feedback/anger/flames for this one, and if you don't hate me too much, check out the one-shot I posted earlier this week. Cheers!_

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**CHAPTER 20: THE WORST NEWS IMAGINABLE**

_January, 1999_

Ron drummed his fingers on the tabletop as he waited impatiently inside a coffee shop a little ways off Diagon Alley. The rain fell steadily against the windowpane, reflecting the mood of the pensive redhead. It had been over eight weeks since Hermione had disappeared, and Ron was nowhere closer from discovering why she had done what she had done...well..._been doing_. Mass chaos was breaking out over the country because of the things she was doing, and it unnerved him that around the corner, the entire world could explode without a minor indication.

He felt a little guilty for getting excited over the meeting he set up with Marcus Belby. As the world tried to right itself, Ron was only concerned with finding out a little more what Hermione was up to. Damocles apparently divided his estate to all his remaining relatives, which meant Ron would be able to access any documents, writings, and the like if he had permission from the deceased's nephew.

Every time the little bell on the door chimed opened, Ron sat up straight, expecting to see Marcus enter the door, only to be faced with disappointment that it was just another client coming in to place an order for coffee, tea, or scones. Ron checked his watch for the umpteenth time, noting that his appointment was now fifteen minutes late.

Cursing under his breath, he stood up abruptly and headed toward the door, only to collide with Marcus himself, who was balancing two boxes in his hands, and being followed by a few others levitating in front of him.

"Give me a hand, will you, Weasley?" he rasped impatiently.

"Are these…"

"My uncle's things from the time line you requested? Yes, now please get moving. This weather is wretched."

The two of them sat down at the abandoned table Ron occupied moments earlier. Marcus roughly shook out his damp cloak and draped it over his chair, casting a drying spell on it. "I swear, I would sooner prefer snow than this cold, depressing precipitation. It's doing nothing for my morale, after everything that has happened."

Ron stared at the half dozen boxes strewn around the table. "Bloody hell, was your uncle a pack rat?"

A waitress brought the men two cups of tea and Marcus began eagerly sipping on it to warm up. "Oh, he was worse. Apart from trying to experiment with useless potions, he wouldn't throw anything away and he had a nasty habit of buying ceramic tea sets. Luckily, he willed them down to his nieces. I wouldn't know what to do with a plaid pattern kettle."

Running a hand through his thinning hair, Ron sighed. "There's no way I'll find anything about Hermione in these papers. There's too many of them."

"Don't you have anything of hers that has her handwriting style? I think I know a charm that can recognize writing form and separate it out from the rest of the papers," Marcus suggested.

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, and he learned the intricate spell from the Ravenclaw.

After fifteen minutes, the men had successful sorted through the papers to separate out anything that had a trace of Hermione's signature. Ron began perusing the papers, only to feel more apprehensive as the papers grew less and less research like and more of dry, playful banter between Hermione and a scrawl he could clearly recognize from six years of potions essays.

_Murtlap tentacles should be used to ease the burning sensation of the Wolfsbane plant as it counteracts the sensory overload as the potion is ingested._

_The tentacles? Hmm…perhaps that would be the ideal ingredient if the mutt in question enjoys feeling excruciating amounts of pain. Granger doesn't realize that adding the Murtlap tentacles would slow down the distribution of the potion throughout the bloodstream, creating a rather complicated and terminal transformation of the creature, literally half human half animal, with no known way to return him to a normal state. Well, normal for his standard of illness._

_Well what do you suggest, oh holy and wise Slytherin god of potions making?_

_Having an assistant that isn't an insufferable know-it-all Gryffindor. And adding an infusion of aloe vera to the tentacles._

_Aha. See, Severus? I was on the right track, and I would have figured out the aloe myself if you gave me more time._

_Time is money, Granger. And you would have killed Remus in the process. Well done._

"Lupin was their test subject? Merlin's beard, I can't handle all of this." He began massaging his temples.

"Yeah, I've noticed. But Ron, there seems to be a lot of banter between Hermione and Severus. And it doesn't seem like it's just professional. There is some personal references…" Marcus's voice faded.

Ron stared aghast at the papers thrown around him, fearing the worst, even though nothing beyond the ordinary was present in those documents. "No…it can't be possible," he whispered dismally.

"Maybe they were just lab and potion partners."

Ron didn't get the chance to respond, for they were interrupted. Ginny ran into the small shop, eyes blazing with fear and awe. "Ron!" she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

With worry, he set the papers aside. "Ginny? What's…"

"They've found Remus!" she exclaimed in a panic, not waiting for Ron to finish his question.

Marcus dropped his teacup, which shattered on the ground. Ron shook his head, thinking he misheard her. "Remus Lupin? Ginny, he died in the final battle."

"That's what I thought," she answered, fear enveloping her features.

"But…how's that…I assure you, he and Tonks were both…" for a moment, his mind went fuzzy.

Ginny began sobbing. "I know. I tried convincing Harry that, but then he asked me if I remembered who killed them, and for the life of me I can't recall it! It scared me, Ron. Harry went to the graveyard and found that his name had disappeared from the headstone. They rushed back to the school and found him, lying in the worst state possible in the middle of the Forbidden Forest."

Ron didn't know how he had the ability to stand up and comfort his sister. He lost all semblance of feeling in his legs from the shock the news gave him.

"There's more bad news," Ginny whispered.

Ron swallowed. "What is it?"

Ginny reluctantly pulled out of her brother's embrace and looked at him with all seriousness and fear in her large brown eyes. "Snape's grave has completely vanished from the castle grounds."


	21. Jumping In

_A/N: Surprise! Umm...yes, long overdue. I apologize. I didn't realize how much directing a show would take a toll on my creative side. But, it opens tonight, and I celebrated by working on this chapter bit-by-bit. I hope it lives up to your expectations. I wanted to thank you all again for the enthusiasm. Every day life can be discouraging, and writing is such a nice outlet. Anyways, you all have waited long enough. Let me know what you think! _

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**CHAPTER 21: JUMPING IN**

The repeating rapt of the clock pierced the silence that permeated through the empty dormitory, and nothing could block out the sound. It reminded Hermione that every passing second meant one less moment in this decade. A part of her relished that. Everything was futile now. Severus was a Death Eater, so it wasn't like she had a chance to save him now. It was too late. But the other part of Hermione dreaded leaving, and not just because of the consequences of her actions. She knew that her life would never be the same, now that she really connected with Severus.

Her throat constricted. She was so angry with him, and yet she couldn't let him go. And what would happen when 1991 came around and Severus realized who she was? If she thought he was a pressuring professor then, she couldn't imagine how vindictive he would be after all they had been through. On the other hand, even if they didn't have the epic fallout and had gone their separate ways without the drama, he would still be vindictive when he found out the truth.

Hermione sighed and collapsed on top of the duvet on her bed, burying her face in the pillows. A long, muffled scream issued from her mouth to release some of her frustration. She even let a few tears escape her chestnut eyes. But crying would do nothing. Hermione knew that she couldn't leave Hogwarts without having some sort of closure with Severus.

His birthday present sat untouched on the top of her dresser, glistening seductively in the torchlight. She had no use for the tome, and it would be a shame to toss it like a worthless pamphlet. Perhaps she could figure out a way to just leave him the book in easy reach, and leave a polite note…

Hermione found herself walking her way towards the troll ballerina tapestry. Purposely missing dinner, she hoped that Severus would be sitting in the Great Hall with the rest of his Slytherin cronies. She timed it late enough in the evening where she knew he would be gone. That way, she could leave the package on his workspace and leave in peace. Then, she would let him decide what to do. It was the least she could do. She was the one to start the turmoil, after all.

That is, if he hadn't changed the wards yet…

Mixed with worry that she would be denied access or worse, he would be working there currently, she exhaled and gripped at the door handle as it morphed into existence. To her relief, the door opened with ease. Her conscious scolded her for entering the room, but she brushed it aside, convincing herself she needed to do this.

_It's not like I'm going to steal something of his, or destroy an experiment he's working on. I'm simply dropping a parcel for him. There's nothing wrong with that!_

Before her curiosity could overwhelm her, she rushed over to a clean table and set the neatly wrapped tome down where she knew Severus would see it. However, once the job was done, she made the mistake of reminiscing over the past few weeks in that very lab, and she sighed, lowering herself on a nearby stool.

How quickly everything had changed! One minute, Severus was threatening her with Veritaserum, the next they were developing the Wolfsbane potion, as well as their relationship. Now…well, she was surprised he didn't change the wards as soon as they had their fall out.

After standing up, Hermione took a good look around the room, knowing it was probably going to be the last time she would be there. Everything was neat and immaculate in the same graceful art Severus had created it to be, except for one difference in lighting, which was coming from the far work station he usually occupied.

As much as Hermione willed her legs to move towards the door instead of that cauldron, they betrayed her. In a flash, she was standing in front of a bubbling cauldron, amazed by what she saw. Colorful sparks were emitted by the opal colored liquid. A pearly sheen was glistening on the top of the potion, and the sweetness of the odor surpassed any perfume she had ever sprayed on her body. It was entrancing, like the call of a veela, and she just had to touch it.

A small gold ladle rested next to the bubbling cauldron, so Hermione picked it up. To her astonishment, it wasn't just colored gold. It was _solid _gold, probably made for this specific purpose; to make a potion more potent and powerful, and prevent it from being contaminated and useless. Just when the lip of the ladle was going to brush the surface of that tempting potion, she was startled.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" Severus shrieked in panic.

Hermione managed not to drop the tool, for her senses knew the instrument would be useless if it was dented. But that still didn't stop her heart from frantically beating as Severus rushed over to the workstation, fear etched into his features, worried at the thought of his elixir being ruined.

He snatched the gold ladle from her hand, and wafted the vapors towards him, Hermione saw his features relax. Apparently, nothing was wrong with the potion. However, his attentions were drawn back to her, the fire blazing in his dark obsidian eyes.

"I ask again," he articulated precisely and threateningly, "What is your business here?"

"Severus, I…I'm sorry to have broken in here, but…"

"Sorry? You're not sorry for anything, you nosy little wench. You made that perfectly clear the other day. Now, I would recommend you take your bushy head of yours and get out of my labs, before I do something I probably wouldn't regret," he spat, not allowing her to finish.

Hermione sighed, knowing she deserved his hostility. "Please forgive me, Severus. I honestly had no right judging you so harshly. It was a spur of the moment reaction." She went across the room to fetch the gift she brought for him. "I understand if you never want to speak to me again after everything, but I got you this for you for your birthday. At least take it as a parting gift."

At the sight of the colorfully wrapped present, Severus's expression softened, but his rationale reluctantly took the parcel from her hands. He sat down, resting the gift on his lap. He seemed to think twice about unwrapping it, biting his lip and furrowing his brow in frustration, but eventually he slowly began to rip the shiny red paper apart. When the book was unveiled, Hermione was transfixed at the raw expression and awe in his eye. She would definitely have to thank Regulus for the invaluable treasure.

She heard him snort and he shook his head. "What the hell am I supposed to do now? Merlin, Hermione, you make it difficult for me to hate you."

"You can still hate me. I deserve it," she responded quietly.

He set the book gently on the table. "Yes, and I wish I could. But that means I'd be a bigger git than I already am. No reason to make it worse for me."

Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "So does that mean you forgive me?"

Severus's dark eyes flickered to his. She saw something glitter in them mischievously. "For now," he stated simply, then turned his attention back to the book, and gently caressed the spine of the tome with his index finger. Hermione could make out the tiniest indication of a smile creeping from the corner of his mouth.

As it was typical for their visits together, Hermione made some tea for the two of them and sat down on a stool next to Severus. No words were spoken, but some unknown fire was sparking in the air. She couldn't identify the energy, or whether it was good or not, but it didn't deter her. He hadn't locked her out of the labs, and he hadn't dismissed her either.

But…why would she even bother? He was already branded. Nothing she did could let him take back his decision. These thoughts saddened her, but her stomach leapt at the thought of his forgiveness. She had a chance…but a chance at what?

So lost in her thoughts, she missed something Severus said. She shook her head. "Sorry?"

"I asked where you got the book. It is…what…a first edition?"

"Oh. Well, don't you worry your pretty little wand about it. I have my sources."

Severus rolled his eyes but his expression softened as he glanced back at the present. "Thank you. It is…definitely unexpected."

She softly smiled back at him, knowing he was lowering his guard, if but for a moment. "You're welcome." She took a sip of her tea. "So, how did you know I was here? Was it a coincidence?"

Severus snorted. "No, you imbecile. You think I wouldn't place wards on my prized possessions in this room? As soon as you got within one hundred feet from the golden ladle, I was alerted and I had to make sure nothing was wrong with the potion or it wasn't being stolen. That instrument costs more than your life."

Hermione stood up and approached the cauldron once more, the sweet smell enveloping her senses once more. She sighed happily, feeling calm and content. "May I touch it?" she asked.

Severus furrowed his brow, but stood up and went to stand next to her. For a moment, Hermione thought he would not allow permission, but just as soon as he got close enough into the vapors of the bubbling cauldron, his composure relaxed. To the both of them, it felt like nothing from that moment on could go wrong.

He stepped behind her, and motioned for Hermione to carefully pick up the golden ladle. With his right hand, he gently grasped the hand holding the precious tool, helping her dip it into the pearly liquid in a precise, delicate motion. His vacant hand rested gently on her hip.

Hermione felt dizzy. She wasn't sure if it was because of the sweet aroma or from being in such close proximity to Severus. Her senses were overloaded. Her skin burned where his hand rested on top of hers. The weight of his hand on her hip made her tremble slightly, and if she wasn't mistaken, she could feel his hand tremor as well. She felt the heat radiate from his lean body that stood so close behind her. If she leaned back slightly…

"What is this potion, Severus? It's making us act…irrational," she whispered, most of her efforts being used to control her desires rather than volume.

"It's not irrationality," he whispered huskily, motioning her arm to stir the substance slowly. "Nor is it an aphrodisiac." Hermione let a sigh escape her mouth. His voice was doing wonders to her. "It's reacting to our desires. Our distractions. Our wants. If there was anything in the world we wanted more, we would have the will to carry onto our journey to reach it. But…here we are."

Hermione closed her eyes, letting Severus lead with the cauldron. "Does it have a name?"

"Felix Felicis. Stage one."

Recognizing the name, she turned her neck and smiled. "Of course. Liquid Luck. That makes perfect sense now." She inhaled deeply. "It is astounding. I've never felt like this before."

"You've never witnessed anyone brew it before?" he asked softly, reluctantly letting go of her hand to set the ladle down. Hermione shook her head before resting her head against his chest. "It's such a fragile potion, Hermione. One wrong stir, one minute too long on the flame, and the vapors can have such an…unfortunate effect on others." He grasped her hips firmly with his free hand, which made her gasp. "Quite the opposite effect, I might add." She felt a trace of a touch on her left cheek and she shivered. He was so close now. She could feel his breath follow after that light caress. He brushed back the hair resting on her shoulders, and then she felt his mouth trail gentle kisses down the length of the newly exposed skin on her neck.

Hermione was losing all control of her mind. Coherent thoughts were becoming obsolete. "It's a good thing I can trust your brewing skills, Severus," she managed to speak, earning her a pleasant chuckle from behind her as he continued his ministrations.

"You won't trust me so strongly if you keep distracting me like this and the potion becomes volatile," he whispered, his voice full of raw emotion.

Hermione tutted at his remark, but she knew he wasn't offended. Severus pulled back reluctantly to tend to the next stages of brewing, and Hermione was surprised how she already missed his contact, and how she longed for it to turn into so much more…

Severus whispered a stabilizing charm over the bubbling brew so as to not have anything disturb it. A small shield appeared around the cauldron, keeping it safe from outside debris. Unfortunately, if nothing could go in, then nothing could go out, including the magical vapors from the potion.

As the air began to clear around her, Hermione suddenly felt embarrassed at her earlier display of affections for Severus. Neither of them behaved like they normally would in ordinary circumstances. She felt him stiffen behind her with awkward tension, but he still didn't pull away. That had to be a good sign.

But along with her awareness returning, Hermione's rationality kicked in. Wasn't Felix Felicis a highly monitored brew?

"Sev," she spoke hesitantly, "Please tell me you are brewing this potion legally."

At the sound of her voice, he released his gentle grasp on her hips as if her fabric burned his hands. "Actually, I can honestly say I am. It's for the admissions office of the Healer program at St. Mungos."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "But Severus, aren't they requiring specified loyalty tests for any new applicant or prospective employees. And…well…you don't know what that entails. I don't think you could pass it."

"I know the circumstances of the bloody test," he snapped. "Do you think of me so poorly that I wouldn't be prepared in this situation? It's still early in the application process. Some of the regulations will not be successfully enforced. I'm hoping that with all the new procedures, I get bypassed throughout the chaos."

Hermione bit her lower lip, skeptical that it would be that easy to get away with, especially now that he was officially a Death Eater. "You're risking the chance of freedom, you realize that? If you don't get away with it, you can possible serve a life sentence in Azkaban for that."

"I know that already," he snapped impatiently. And rather anxiously, Hermione noted.

Hermione could feel the "I told you so" speech burning on her lips. A part of her knew he deserved the complications thrown in the way of his plans, but the other part of her was sadden that his dreams were crushed before ever having the chance to blossom. He would have made such a good Healer.

"Well…I wish you the best of luck," Hermione finished indignantly.

"Look, I don't feel like hearing your soap box speech. This isn't nearly as much my fault than it is for those damn political blokes we've voted into the Ministry. If they would just do their job, people like me wouldn't be joining revolutionary groups!"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, because the Ministry was making your life _so_ damn hard to bear. Face it, Sev. It has nothing to do with politics. It has all to do with getting back at your abusive muggle father, and your weak disowned mother."

"Of course, it also has to do with them! I'm not denying that. But muggles have no place in our world. That's the truth. They get vindictive and the come out with vengeance to take us down, one wizard at a time. And muggleborns just fall into that category because they have baggage; a past with that society. I'm trying to help build that wall of separation. They won't touch us. We won't touch them."

Those words stung Hermione. She began seeing red as she stormed towards the Slytherin once more. "So that's all I am to you then? Baggage? Who was it that helped with the Wolfsbane? Who are you trying to fool? And what was all that rubbish you were talking about at the Yule Party? If you want me in my 'proper place', do you deny telling me that it didn't matter where I came from? Did you only try to take advantage of me?"

As the tirade escaped her lips, Hermione realized how upset she truly was as his whole belief system. She quickly turned her head so that he would not see the tears in her eyes. How could she have been so naïve about him…or that foolish…

Hermione felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. "Of course not, Hermione. I meant everything I said that night. I don't place you in the typical group of muggleborns. You are just so…different. You're not like the others."

She hastily brushed at her eyes so the tears wouldn't fall. She had to stay strong. "I am aware that this is how things between you and Lily ended. You can't just pick and choose which muggleborns are acceptable. Either we all are, or none of us are." She straightened up. "I have seen the decision you've made. Goodbye, Severus." Hermione quickly turned to escape the room, but she suddenly felt a tight, desperate grip on her wrist.

"Hermione, wait. Don't go," Severus pleaded.

"Why?" she snapped viciously. She quickly turned her head to glare at him, which was a mistake. Hermione never saw so much pain and fear in his eyes. She could see his jaw clenching. All in all, his stance and features uttered pure panic and desperation. How could she not lend him a fair ear?

"Once bitten, twice shy," he simply stated. Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, loosening his grip and sliding it down so he was holding her hand in his. "You said it. I lost Lily for the same ignorance. I can't deny that, and I learn from my mistakes. I cared about her dearly…you know that, and losing her was like losing a part of myself. I never thought I'd get a second chance, but then you showed up. And now…well…if I lose you…if you leave me, I'm left with nothing."

All his defenses were down. The pure, raw emotion he was emitting made Hermione's breath catch in her throat. He was being sincere, no doubt about that. But she still was skeptical. "Severus, why should I believe you?" She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I mean, only a few weeks ago, you told me that you just wanted to be friends. And with everyone going on, we'd be putting each other in danger. It makes no sense."

"I was only trying to convince myself that I didn't care about you," he whispered as he took a step closer to her. "And it is insane. The timing is wrong. The world's in chaos. And we've both made choices to further our own personal initiatives. You, with your fugitive lifestyle and me, well, with my revolutionary attitude." His hand cupped her cheek. "But if we are to make the most with what we have, might as well jump in."

She closed her eyes at his slightly calloused fingers grazed gently across her cheek. She smiled. "Even though it's only destined to end in heartache and pain?"

He smiled in return, the fire in his dark eyes ablaze with passion. "That doesn't have to be the case. Besides," he added, "Liquid Luck never lies."

Hermione bit her lip in anticipation as Severus guided her mouth to his. "Too true," she whispered breathlessly, and his lips met hers.

There was nothing comparable to the way it felt to have Severus's breath fanning on her face. His lips, soft and gentle on hers were unlike anything she thought kissing him would be like. Their first kiss at the Yule Party was hesitant. This kiss spoke of a future and of excitement, and as Severus deepened the kiss, desire, want, need, and passion.

They were quickly giving into the feeling and fervor of losing themselves to their senses. Severus's hands made their way to the back of Hermione's head, fingers tangled in her curly locks. He tugged back gently, eliciting a moan from her, and he smiled against her mouth.

They pulled back to catch a breath, thoroughly disheveled and flushed. But neither of them planned on stopping there. Their mouths met again, this time more desperate. Hermione's hands could not get enough of his contours. They traveled down his back, up his arms, only to rest at the front of his robes, working on the long lines of buttons on the garment. "Severus," she whispered as her fingers were one layer closer to his hot skin.

Somehow, their feet made there way to the other side of the room and collapsed on the soft surface of a large bed that had appeared out of nowhere. Neither of them cared. It was the Room of Requirement after all.

Severus's outer robe had been discarded on the floor and Hermione's soon followed suit. Lying on her back, she reached up to where he kneeled above her and tore through the buttons on his shirt. When her delicate touch traced down the skin of his chest, he hissed with pleasure, and bent down to plant another hungry kiss on her awaiting lips.

"You're driving me mad, Hermione," he whispered huskily on her skin, kissing the delicate flesh on her neck. "Tell me to stop right now, or I swear I won't be able to later. Please." He began working the buttons on her own blouse, pausing only to place his lips on the newly exposed skin. Hermione focused on pushing the useless fabric off his framed shoulders

As his mouth reached her delicate stomach, her breath hitched. With all the sensations soaring through her body, the last thing she wanted him to do was end this moment. "Oh, Merlin, I don't want you to stop." She reached down to have him come back to her lips. If she had any doubts, his smoldering gaze would convince her otherwise. "I want you, Severus," she said, her voice raw with emotion. "Please, don't stop. Don't stop."

Nothing else needed to be said. He collapsed on top of her, and the sensation of his skin on hers was sublime. His hands began to roam fervently on her torso, stopping only to tease her brassiere encased breasts that begged to be touched. He was rewarded with another tantalizing moan, while her hands ran down his back, encouraging his exploration further.

In all her life, Hermione was always second guessing her personal decisions. She was always cautious, exploring the various options she had and thoroughly scrutinizing every one before making the final choice. It seemed like Severus was her undoing. The first spontaneous thing she could remember doing was going back in time. And now, she was going to make love to him with no regrets or hesitation.

She looked up at Severus with so much devotion. His long hair hung around his face like a curtain. Hermione reached to brush it behind his ear. In return, he placed a tender kiss on the pulse point of her wrist.

"Ma mie, are you sure?" he asked cautiously.

Hermione smiled tenderly up at him. "I've never been more certain of anything else in my life."

As he began kissing her once more, Hermione began to let go of all control and give in to the sensations. The heat between the two of them intensified. Even with only a few layers of clothing on for the both of them, she couldn't get his body close enough to hers. With some difficulty, Hermione managed to undo the belt of Severus's trousers, sliding the leather strap out of the confines of the loops. She shivered when her hands brushed the evidence of his arousal.

Hermione felt Severus stiffen above her after she tossed the belt on the ground with the rest of their discarded clothing. Then, he hissed. But Hermione noticed it was not like the ones she was used to hearing from him. This one was a hiss of pain.

Suddenly, Severus rolled off of Hermione and knelt on the bed above her, a grimace on his face. Nothing about the last few minutes was visible on his countenance, except the flush to his cheeks. Hermione sat up quickly, wondering if she did something to harm him. "Severus, did I hit you with the belt?"

He began shaking his head fervently. "No, no. Not at all. I just realized we shouldn't be doing this. It's not proper." He tried to turn his body so that it was no longer facing hers.

Hermione could not believe what she was hearing. Only moments ago, he spoke about how they should embrace any chance they had. Take advantage of it, so to speak. And now, he was going against his word. This was unlike anything he had ever done before.

For a moment, Hermione felt personally victimized by Severus. And then, she saw him flinch. Another spasm of pain raked through his body. Reflexively, his right hand grasped onto his left forearm. Then, everything connected.

The open blouse that was hanging off her shoulders returned to its proper position. Hermione folded her knees and wrapped her arms around them, trying not to believe that a Death Eater revel had interrupted the most beautiful encounter she had ever had with another person. She had to choke back her tears.

"Does being summoned hurt badly?" she asked quietly.

He didn't answer right away. Severus stared out toward the frame of the headboard, clenching his jaw and gathering his composure. "It all depends on how he feels," he uttered with indifference.

Not knowing what else to do, Hermione simply nodded. Severus stood up and gathered the rest of his clothes. He dressed silently, the only noise coming from rustling fabric and the crackling of the hearth. Once his appearance was presentable, she saw him fold her own discarded robe neatly and place it on the end of the bed.

The air was heavy with dread. It was like the atmosphere of a funeral. Departing was inevitable, but neither one of them wanted to be the first to acknowledge the fact. Finally, Severus sighed and sat down next to her.

"I'm not sure how long I will be gone…" he began.

Hermione refused to look at him. She brushed a stray curl behind her ear. "So, you don't want me waiting up for you."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "You would be wasting your time. And people would worry where you had disappeared."

She felt her throat tighten. "So, how many days should I wait before alerting the Headmaster of your own disappearance? Surely, you don't think you can get away with a long visit."

"The Dark Lord knows I'm still a student, and he won't blow my cover. There will be no need to tell anyone where I am. It will only make things more complicated."

"It's already complicated, Severus," she emphasized involuntarily.

The tension was thick. He couldn't say anything to comfort her, so Severus stood up. "Right, then. I will be back soon. It will be alright." With no response from her, and not a single look from those chestnut eyes, he turned towards the door.

Hermione wished she could stay angry. She wanted to throw curses in his direction. She wanted to scream and yell obscenities about how he was toying with her emotions. But the only thing that was taking over her reflexes and emotion was the knowledge that Severus would be leaving the grounds of Hogwarts and going to a Death Eater revel, putting him in direct harm's way. A part of Hermione knew that it was possible he would never come back the same man as he was now.

That was what made Hermione jump off the bed and run to the door before Severus stepped out of the room. He heard her frantic steps and turned around just in time to catch her in his arms. She placed a desperate goodbye kiss on his lips.

"Be safe," she said, a single tear cascading down her face. Severus brushed it away with his thumb, and nodded. He pulled out of her embrace and exited the room, leaving Hermione standing alone and frightened, staring at the oak door as it slammed shut.


	22. Ron's Misgivings

_A/N: Hey, so I kept my promise this time! This little conflict appeared in my mind as I was brainstorming the next couple of chapters. I hope it does justice to Ron's personality. Please let me know if it doesn't, so I can try and fix it. _

_I have found the most amazing app ever! I have it posted in my profile for everyone's benefit. But for some time, I've been trying to figure out a way to convert all my favorite completed fanfiction stories into epub files, so I can store them and read them when I feel like it without sitting at the computer. It's amazing, and if you have an e-reader, take advantage of it. :D_

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**CHAPTER 22: RON'S MISGIVINGS**

_1999_

Harry and Ron were on a mission of their own. At the news of Remus's resurrection, Harry rushed over to St. Mungos to get the up-to-date condition of his fragile state. Ron decided to inspect the scene at Hogwarts himself. A part of him could not believe that two wizards could have been resurrected from the dead. It was unheard of.

As he entered the apparition point at the gates of the school, Ron tried to ignore the rising bile in his throat at the thought of Snape being alive. The small, rational part of his brain understood that he was never the Death Eater he poised himself to be at the end of the war. Snape was the hero. A part of their success was because he had sacrificed so much for the Light, and for Harry.

No, Ron was fuming because he wanted to protect what was rightfully his. And Hermione was something he was not willing to share with other men. It wasn't like he wanted to prevent her from having her own friends. He trusted Hermione, and he knew she loved him. But the fact of the matter was, old habits die hard, and Ron could not fully trust Snape. He may have had good intentions while playing the spy, but he still lied to everyone.

Deep down, he knew Snape and Hermione were treading the line of impropriety in regards to their relationship. Ronald had no proof, but if the Wolfsbane research notes were any indication, he feared the worst.

Instead of notifying McGonagall about his presence, Ron wanted to settle his racing heart as soon as possible. He took the path leading down over the gentle rolling slopes of the school. A few inches of snow were resting on the grass, making the trip to the gravesite a little more strenuous and tricky. The soles of his boots crunched through the ice, once in a while losing traction, but Ron was quick enough to catch his step. Not even the bitter cold could deter his trip.

Dumbledore's white marble tomb blended in with the unblemished snow around the grounds. A few crows were perched on the ledge, the only contrast of color as far as he could see. Except, Ronald knew the small, black headstone should have been erected somewhere close to Dumbledore's.

Ron swallowed a lump in his throat. This had to be a cruel joke. He got down on his hands and knees and began to hastily dig the snow away from the tomb, as if it could be possible that the snow buried Snape's grave. His gloves were beginning to become soaked with the frigid temperatures of the weather, his fingers numb from the snow, but he kept on digging.

Out of breath and energy, Ron sunk back onto his heels and hung his head in defeat. Somehow, within the past nine weeks, Hermione had done something to save Snape. The question now was how she managed it.

Suddenly, something that contrasted the whiteness of the snow caught Ron's attention from the corner of his eye. Upon further inspection, it appeared to be some sort of illusion, or maybe a translucent object. Like waves on the seashore, the vision kept coming and going in and out of focus, as if fate could not decide if it should be there.

Ron had never seen such magic before. He crawled over to where the vanishing headstone was erect, and tried to touch the granite. His hand passed right through the object like it would through a ghost. But only a few moments later, the stone was solid once more, clearly spelling out the previous fate of his Potions Master.

He stared aghast at the small epitaph engraved into the stone and shook his head, reading the short but eloquent phrase depicting the deceased man. "Hermione, he would have always been remembered. You didn't have to resort to this," he whispered out loud, even though she would never hear him.

As the grave began to vanish once more, Ron figured it was as good of a time as any to report back to McGonagall. Surely, she would have remembered more of what was going on in 1978. Then, he had his work cut out for him at St. Mungos dealing with Lupin. With his anger mounting, he put his energy into making the long hike back to the castle. The more he analyzed the situation, the more frustrated he became. _Why, Hermione? Why?_

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_1999_

As the Healers, mediwitches and assistants continued to frantically monitor Lupin's vitals and wellbeing, Harry stood off in the corner of the room, trying to stay out of their way. Even though Remus had come back from the dead, he was still teetering on the brink of survival. Harry had never seen him so fragile. He was completely emaciated, pale, and malnourished. His lips were parched and had cracked from lack of moisture and replenishment. Merlin only knew how long he had been lying in the forest.

Lupin kept going in and out of consciousness. The Healers had finally stabilized his blood pressure, but given his Lycanthropy and the cycle of the moon, they had to monitor him further. They had no idea how his treatments would react with all the rest of the potions and spells they were placing on him to help him gain back his strength.

Harry sighed and made his way to the fifth floor tearoom, where Ginny sat anxiously awaiting the news of their colleague. When she saw him enter, she quickly summoned him a cup of strong tea and made room for him on the sofa next to her.

"How is he?" she quickly asked.

Harry exhaled, exhaustion written on his features as he took a sip. "Finally stabilized, but who knows how long that will last. He's been relapsing ever since he was brought here."

Ginny placed a comforting kiss on his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry. If they managed to keep him alive for this long, it can only be a good sign he'll recover." Silence permeated throughout the room. "Is there any sign of Tonks?"

"No. Unfortunately, her name is still at her gravesite."

Ginny stifled a sob. "I can't imagine what Remus had to have gone through, coming back from the dead and all. And now, without his wife…"

"He's got Teddy to see him through all of this. That has to be something worth living for."

"Have you contacted Andromeda and Ted?"

Harry nodded. "They plan on visiting as soon as Remus is healthy enough for visitors."

Ginny sighed. "I hope that's soon. The quicker he gets back on his two feet, the better." She reached her hand over and grasped Harry's, a beautiful diamond glittering on her fourth finger. "Maybe if Remus remembers how he survived, it will help us piece together Hermione's whereabouts."

"It will definitely be interesting hearing his account. I mean, before Hermione did this, I don't think there was an account of resurrection outside the Bible."

Ginny chuckled. "I guess that's our silver lining." She pulled back her head and leaned in for a kiss just as Ron entered the little tea room.

'Oh, there you guys are," he said exasperatedly.

The couple on the couch straightened up and ushered Ron to take a seat, but he was too agitated and began pacing the floor, explaining to them what he witnessed at Hogwarts.

Harry felt some sympathy for his friend, seeing how distressed he was. "Ron, we all could be overreacting. Maybe Snape wasn't rescued by Hermione. Maybe he ended up saving himself."

Ron glared at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me? We all know Hermione had a hand in it. Isn't that why she went back in time to begin with? To save his sorry, miserable, Death Eater arse?"

"Ron, don't talk about Professor Snape like that," Ginny admonished to her brother.

"I will talk about him in any bloody way I want. Just because he was the hero doesn't mean he was a git and a bastard. And now, a home-wrecker."

"You can't be a home-wrecker if there wasn't a home to wreck, you flobberworm," she argued back.

"Why are you defending him?"

"Ginny. Ron. Please stop, okay?" Harry intervened. "We all know how chaotic this situation is, but we have to keep our wits about if we are going to get out of this rut."

Ron didn't respond, but glared at his sister with contempt, and quickly stormed out of the room. Ginny, equally angered, went back to the sofa to gather her things. "Unbelievable! We have an old friend resurrect from the dead, and all he can worry about is if his _ex -fiancée _shacked up with Snape! Merlin, if I dated Ron, I would be tempted too! He's such a horrible, selfish git!"

Harry swallowed nervously. "Ginny, you don't think she intentionally broke up with Ron because she wanted to be with Snape, do you?"

Ginny paused for a moment and pondered his question. "It's difficult to say." When she saw him furrow his brow with confusion, she clarified. "I mean, when Ron and Hermione had that row back in my fifth year, she did try her best to get over him while he was snogging Lavender Brown. It might be possible that she started to fancy Snape."

Harry shook his head. "I don't remember her spending any extra time with him after Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "Who says it was then? Her second home was the library, and I'm assuming with a mind like Snape's, he'd be there too, more often than not. I'm sure they crossed paths. And with the knowledge of him playing spy…oh, must I explain it to you? Women like men who risk their lives for the good of others. That's why I took a fancy to you so quickly."

The idea was too difficult for Harry to grasp. "Hermione fancied Snape?" he asked bewildered. Ginny chuckled and ushered him out of the tea room, where they made their way back to where Remus was being treated.

The Healers notified them that Remus would be in a spell induced coma until after the full moon cycle, which was only a few days away. They assumed his transformation would not stress his vitals too much if he was still resting. The only person who seemed to have a problem with this was Ron, and he left the room, while Ginny straightened the covers on the bed. She shot an exasperated look at her brother, and then urged Harry to talk sense to him.

Harry exited the room, and found Ron waiting with irritation for the two of them to be finished in the room. Harry's patience was being stretched thin by the red head. "Can you please enlighten me as to why you are acting like your wand is stuck up your arse?"

"I'm not acting any differently than I normally do," Ron said shortly.

"Sure, when you're angry and are thickheaded."

"I don't have time for this," Ron exclaimed as he marched his way down the corridor towards the exit of the floor.

"Ron, there isn't anything else we can do but wait this whole thing out," Harry called after him.

He spun around abruptly, his face turning as red as his hair. "Well, we are wasting time here while Remus is incapacitated. We need to find another way to get to Hermione."

"Get to Hermione, or stopping Snape?" Harry asked in a flash. "It's out of our control, and it's not like _Professor _Snape is doing this. It's Snape as a teenager. He has no vindictive attitude towards us. If it happens, it's because he truly likes her. If it's any reassurance to you, he loved my mom too much to let another woman in his life."

Ron clenched his jaw. "I don't understand why you are defending that….that git, all of a sudden!"

"I'm not defending him. I just feel you are being unreasonable in this situation."

"Unreasonable? Are you serious? What's unreasonable is that you've gone behind my back and actually tried to get the man exonerated from his crimes! Don't give me that look, Potter. Kingsley told me you've filed an appeal for the original verdict he sent out after Hermione's request. Luckily, it's slim they'll reverse their original decision. I don't understand why you have to get involved with this."

"We would have lost the war without him! He doesn't deserve to be marked as a criminal when he sacrificed himself for our side."

"He sacrificed himself for Lily Evans! Not anyone else. Merlin, Harry, I get it, he fancied your mum. So what? He still was a righteous bastard to us now, to your dad then, and now he's making the move on my fiancée!"

"Your _ex-fiancée_."

At this pronouncement, Ron paled. "Piss off, Potter. You think you're being noble, defending the tragic, misunderstood hero of the war. You're just guilty you lost faith in him to begin with. At least I can admit I never liked him, spy or not."

"It's not that, Ron. I'm your best mate. I'm supposed to tell you when you are being a selfish bastard, and right now, you aren't thinking about anyone but yourself."

Ron snorted. "Best mate? Do you even know what that means? My real 'best mate' would at least tell me when he was going to propose marriage to my little sister!"

Harry swallowed, realizing his error. "I've talked to you about it."

"Don't give me that," he interrupted. "I've known you've wanted to propose to her since after the war. But I thought you would have the decency to let me know when it would happen. I had to find out by seeing the damn rock on her bloody left hand. The sad thing is, is she didn't even mention it either."

"Have you noticed that a few unexpected events have happened since the New Year started? Yes, I should have told you when we were going to be engaged, but in between Snape's grave disappearance and Remus coming back from the dead, I guess it slipped my mind!"

"Well, it wasn't supposed to be that way. Hermione and I were engaged, and now you've proposed to Ginny just to make a point."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Are you even listening to yourself? You're overreacting! I am marrying your sister because I love her. Not because I want to spite you."

"Yeah, well I wouldn't be surprised if the day comes where Hermione has returned, and you'd urge her to go and find Snape."

"If you keep this up, I might have to. I wouldn't want her marrying a child!"

"Go to hell, Harry," Ron shouted as he turned on his heel and left the floor.

Harry reentered the room fuming. Ginny rushed over to him and pulled him into a comforting embrace. "No need to tell me anything, Harry. I think the entire hospital heard your row."

He sighed and buried his face into her hair. "It just was careless of us to not tell your family about our engagement," he admitted.

Ginny pulled back and looked him square in the eye. "There are more pressing matter to attend to than to announce our engagement. Frankly, I don't care if my family is insulted by our slip. If we wanted to run away and elope to some exotic place, that's our prerogative. I'm the youngest of seven children, and it would be wonderful for once to make my own decisions." She kissed him chastely on the mouth. "Now, let's put our attentions into something that is more important. Ron will fuss like a child, but once he cools off he'll set his head on straight. You'll see."

Harry pulled her back into his arms. "I'm glad you are not like your brother," he said gratefully.

"I'm glad I'm not, either. Now, let's take care of the paperwork." And the couple began the tedious process of officially welcoming Remus Lupin back to society.

* * *

_A/N: I would appreciate any feedback, especially for Ron's character. It will be important for me once Hermione returns back to the present time. Thanks! _


	23. 180 Degrees

_A/N: Sunday off. This is what I did. Wow. Like I said in my profile, I originally didn't plan to have a lot of Severus's POV, but I felt as I began to write this chapter, there was a huge gap. I hope this filled it. Thanks for all of you reader's enthusiasm. I really do appreciate the love. I'm checking other sites to get the word out on this story as well, so if you have friends who like this kind of stuff, pass along the word. Thanks a lot, and RR if you have the chance. I'll probably edit this chapter like crazy as the story progresses. :D 3_

* * *

_1978_

Days went by without a single indication Severus had returned safely back to Hogwarts. The more Hermione waited, the more anxious she became. However, she wasn't sure if he was at the revel for as long as he was gone. According to some of his Slytherin counterparts (as reported in corresponding classes), he had left the grounds to attend to post-secondary interviews at various Mediwizardry training facilities.

She scrutinized the situation thoroughly. His house-mates could easily be covering for his lack of attendance in classes, but Severus _was _starting the application process. That wasn't a lie. Her thoughts went back to the bubbling Felix Felicis in his private labs…

As she turned crimson, remembering the events that transcribed because of that said elixir, she tried to retract to more logical thoughts.

His meeting couldn't have been with St. Mungos, unless it was a privately arranged one. He had mentioned correspondence with Belby regarding the new regulations of the Loyalty tests, which perturbed Severus to no end. Hermione assumed that he was trying to bypass the laws by using Belby as a leg-up.

With Severus gone, she felt more alone than ever. James and Sirius were reluctant to extend a friendly hand to help her socialize with the rest of Gryffindor house because of their altercation last term. Lily was always refreshing to talk to, but conversations with her usually turned towards the Slytherin, and the last thing Hermione wanted was a reminder about him, and what he could be doing.

Hermione resorted to her old habit of wandering around the corridors, this time at all hours of the day. She found herself having a few friendly exchanges with random students and professors, but nothing profound, which she preferred. Everything was beginning to sink in, including the guilt and damage she knew she had caused to occur in 1999.

She thought about Ron, Harry, and everyone else she left behind. Would they be willing to stand along side of her when she returned? Would they forgive her?

Would there be a world to go back to?

She sighed and sat down on her favorite window sill, the one she found herself always returning to. The grounds outside were gloomy with the heavy feeling of a long winter. Everything looked destitute and lifeless, with no hope of a future. Hermione wondered whether she would have the strength to see the grounds bloom into spring.

"Miss Granger, I thought I could find you here."

Hermione turned her head to see the Headmaster beam down at her. "Good afternoon, Professor."

He eased himself down slowly where Hermione made room for him on the sill, his bones creaking slightly in his old age. "Ah, I see that you've found one of the best areas of the castle," he spoke cheerfully, searching through his robe pockets. "Would you like a lemon drop? I have found I am quite partial to the muggle treat. There are no surprises, unlike Bertie's confections."

A small smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Professor." She reached over and took a small piece. The two of them sat in comfortable silence, looking outside the window at the grounds, and ingesting the candy.

"I couldn't help but notice that young Severus has been missing from his classes. Do you have any idea where he could be?" Dumbledore asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Hermione could not hide the guilty look on her face. "I can't be too sure where he is, sir," she lied.

"Ah," was Dumbledore's response. But Hermione knew she couldn't keep anything from him.

"I failed," she whispered dismally, returning her gaze to the window.

"Failed what, Miss Granger? Your Arithmancy exam?"

She sighed helplessly. "Please don't make me actually say it, Headmaster. You know what I'm talking about."

He patted the top of her foot gently. "Fortunately, I believe I do. This saves you from being a material witness, if he would ever be arrested for his…affiliation."

Hermione dry sobbed at the thought of Severus being sent to Azkaban. "Headmaster, will you have to turn him in?"

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid if the evidence is obvious, then yes I will have to. Voldemort's army is growing stronger, and the only way to stop it would be to tear it down. Severus will be a strong asset to the Dark side, there's no doubt about that." He saw the pained expression on the girl's face. "However…everything is circumstantial. As I like to say with those American folk, innocent until proven guilty. I can't report him just because someone says he's a Death Eater. I need the proof."

She curled her legs so that her chin rested on her knees. "How long are you willing to wait?"

Dumbledore was silent at first, but then a small smile spread on his face. "As long as it takes for him to see the light," he said in assurance.

He stood up slowly, putting the treats back in his pocket. "Perhaps you could send him an owl. I believe our birds are very wise and they can find our missing student, wherever he may be."

Hermione nodded. "I will. Thank you so much, Professor," she uttered, more for the fact that he promised not to report Severus to the authorities.

"Of course, Miss Granger. And I would not be so hasty in saying you have failed. After all, we still have our whole lives to live," he said, his blue eyes sparkling.

Exhaling, Hermione relaxed against the wall, feeling more at ease on the situation. _At least Dumbledore won't betray him,_ she mused.

* * *

Taking Dumbledore's advice, Hermione quickly penned a letter, albeit with angry and worried undertones.

_Sev,_

_If you were as intelligent as you claim to be, you would at least notify Dumbledore of your absence. I've heard a few rumors floating around, and each one is as ridiculous as the next (at least for me) until you answer this bloody letter. If you don't respond, I'll assume you're in danger and I'll get the Ministry involved. If in fact you're safe, well, let's just say you'll wish I called up the Ministry._

_Please get back to me, Severus Snape. I need to know you're safe._

_H._

Luckily for Hermione, Severus did not underestimate her temper and threats.

_Dear Insufferable Gryffindor,_

_How I wish you would leave me to my own business. I am, in fact, safe. I have contacted a few of my fellow Slytherins, who were supposed to notify Slughorn of my absence. Trust them to actually remember such a piece of important notification. The rumors, indeed, are true. I am currently in route back to Hogwarts after meeting with Belby about Mediwizardry Training. We met at Durmstrang. Please do not contact any government officials, because I fear they would not want to waste their precious time on a paranoid twit like you._

_Do not worry. I will be back just so you can get your fix on suffocating me with your untimely consistent, throbbing presence. And I will continue to tolerate it, because I am just that masochistic. _

_Yours,_

_S.T.S._

Despite the cold and biting nature of the letter, and her indignant huff as she read the message, Hermione was touched at his words, because she knew he was safe. And in between the lines, Severus had shown and written that he actually cared, and that he did not want her to worry.

True to his word, Severus was back at the castle the following morning. Hermione had spotted him from a distance during breakfast. The knot that had unknowingly formed in her stomach loosened at the sight that he was truly alive, and in one piece. The only sign that showed he was worse for wear was the shadows under his eyes, and the slight stubble on his chin.

She couldn't take her eyes off of him. The conversation at the table was all a blur. Nothing else matter. Suddenly, his eyes met hers. At that instant, his walls were down, and for some unknown reason, she knew what he was thinking.

_I'm safe, Hermione. No need to worry anymore._

* * *

Staring intently at his cereal bowl, Severus was trying to grasp the rollercoaster ride he just had to endure the past few days. If you asked him how he managed to stay sane throughout each grueling day, he wouldn't have a straight answer. It was merely luck. And, truth be told (even though he would never admit it out loud), his thoughts were constantly returning to Hermione.

Ironically, it was those thoughts that ended up getting him in trouble.

Leaving Hermione that day in his labs was the hardest thing he ever had to do, and not only because of the circumstances of their…behaviors. For one, Severus had finally come clean with his feelings for the girl. No longer was he willing to repress them. Felix Felicis never lies, and to his utter amazement, what he felt was reciprocated.

Everything was perfect. He was holding the girl in his arms, inhaling her sweet scent, and for the first time in a long time, he was utterly happy. But then, just when he thought he was going to make love to one of the most enticing women he had ever met, the Dark Lord decided to crash the party.

Perhaps it was best that things didn't go farther than they had that evening. Severus didn't know how Hermione would have acted around him once they lied next to each other, spent and satiated. Would she be clingy? Would she panic? Or for that matter, would he close her off again, like he was known to do when relationships became too involved.

Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. To hell with all of those musings. He and Hermione were both adults, and he knew damn well that it would have been a beautiful beginning to something he could have never imagined happening in his life. They complimented each other, like a pumpkin pasty and a butterbeer. Now, Severus didn't know if something like that could happen ever again in such a perfect manner…

His thoughts were drawn to his first official Death Eater Revel. The few days before the Yule Party, he was only reporting to Malfoy Manor to give his own personal insight on various properties of metals, potions, and the like when it came to protection.

_Protection… curious…what is there needing to be protected?_

Nevertheless, as typical of Severus, he put those small, insignificant meetings in the back of his mind. No reason to fret over them if they didn't deal with him directly. Since the Dark Lord did not request any other potions, Severus had no business inquiring further.

The only thing on his mind as he made it to Malfoy Manor after he left Hermione was the pained, worried expression on her face as he closed the door behind him. A part of him was touched at her outward emotional display towards him. But something nagged him. It was like she knew something he didn't. That was happening a little more often than he would like to admit.

The meeting was something he never expected. A long, mahogany table in the dining area was set for three dozen wizards, all wearing masks like the one he recently donned. Lucius had explained to him that it was a symbol that all wizards with the purest intentions (and blood-status) were equal in the Dark Lord's eyes, but he discarded that facade. Severus knew it was to maintain control on the powerful wizard's hand. If no one knew who was present at the meeting, it next to impossible to plan a coup against the Dark Lord.

If there was one thing Severus agreed with his…Master…it was that you couldn't trust anyone.

Many of the new recruits were seated at the far end of the table, signifying that you needed to win the Dark Lord's favor to move further up on the table lines. Of course, Severus didn't mind his seat in the least sense. His mind was too preoccupied with the events of the day to worry about what the adults at the other end of the table were discussing.

Unfortunately, not paying attention would prove to be very dangerous during a Dark Revel. He took in a few words here and there, plans to select the perfect wizards and witches to help with the protection plans, but none of this interested Severus. The table grew silent, and the young Slytherin continued to be preoccupied with his thoughts, until a shower of yellow sparks were sent down to his end of the table.

Severus automatically straightened up and looked down the line to see the older dark wizards staring sinisterly at him. None looked as stern and menacing as the Dark Lord, sitting tall at the end of the table, his snake curled up close behind.

"So glad you could have finally joined us, my potions expert," he said sternly.

Severus nodded his head politely. "My lord."

The Dark Lord steepled his finger and continued to stare at the boy. "Friends," he addressed to all of the people at the table. "I understand we all have tiring schedules, promoting our esteemed cause. However…I must inquire. Is it appropriate to not devote our full attention to the tasks at present? Is it that much to ask?" No one answered. "Talbot?"

A sallow skinned man who sat a few seats from the evil wizard's right hand whimpered at the direct address. "No, my lord."

"Switch seats with him, Talbot. He is more use to me."

The young man opened his mouth to speak, aghast that he would lose his rising seat, but at the sight of the leader raising his wand, he quickly scrambled out of the chair and fled to where the Slytherin sat. Without looking, Severus slowly stood up, and moved down the table to the vacant seat, trying not to emanate the small power trip he felt coursing through his body as he moved closer to the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord remained silent for a moment, studying Severus's demeanor. Such scrutiny made him feel a little apprehensive. It was like being cornered in a small room, with no way out. Severus wondered if a part of him was claustrophobic. It was suffocating.

"I wonder, my young potions expert, what ails you so," You-Know-Who spoke in his cold voice.

Still avoiding eye contact, Severus shook his head. "It's nothing, my lord. School things and such." He managed to say this rather smoothly and calmly.

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes, sensing that the boy wasn't lying, but he was still holding something back. "Look at me, boy."

Severus swallowed, and then raised his eyes to meet the ghastly red ones of his Master. In the past, for a man of only 18, he was proud of his Occlumency skills. Now, he knew what he thought was proficient was only child's play.

He had never felt violated like that in his whole life. A cold sneer appeared on the disfigured wizard's face as he trifled through the thoughts of the boy. Schoolwork…experiments…applications…Hermione…

"Ah, I see," his master said, with clear amusement in his voice. "I see we interrupted you in a rather…_enjoyable _situation. I am quite honored you would address my summons so quickly. That only shows undue dedication for our cause. I'm sure we can find you an appropriate substitute in the future…"

"It wasn't a problem, my lord," Severus replied stoically. "She doesn't mean anything to me."

It was a lie. And you could never lie to Lord Voldemort without getting caught. "My child, you are young. And it is too easy to get caught up in romance. But note that when it comes to power, trifles like that will only hold you back." He paused. "I would take extra care that she does not distract you from the tasks that are assigned. I would hate to have to take matters into my own hands."

He swallowed. "Of course, my lord." Severus could feel his hands begin to sweat in nervousness. It was already humiliating that the Dark Lord penetrated his mind so easily. But now, with Hermione being known to him, it was only a matter of time before he would want more information about her. Her loyalties, her skills, her Blood Status…

The silence in the room was heavy and foreboding. Severus' thoughts ventured to what Hermione had admonished to him numerous times about the Death Eaters. For a group that only wanted to put control back into the wizards and witches with the purest and strongest magical bonds, it was very…threatening. Maybe she was right…

"You will bring her with you the next time I summon you," the Dark Lord said firmly.

Severus's eyes widened. "My…my lord?" he stammered.

"If this...vixen…can distract you from your most important activities, surely I am interested in her as well. She might be a very irreplaceable asset to my cause. You don't like to share?"

"My lord, she has clearly stated this war is not hers."

"There is no war, for it has been won," the Dark Lord stated firmly, making Severus and the rest of the group wince slightly. "You will bring her, or suffer the consequences."

There was no way out. "My apologies, my lord. I will do what you wish."

A sneer was placed on the Dark Lord's face. "That's better." He relaxed and stroked the head of his pet snake, like it was some twisted version of a dog. "Oh, and Severus?"

"Yes, my lord?" But before he could turn his head, all he saw was a flash of light as his body was twisted and contorted in pain. Taken aback at the sudden attack, his chair tipped back and Severus fell with the mahogany throne, smacking his head on the back of the frame as it hit the floor.

After a few excruciating minutes, the pain subsided. Nothing was really coherent to him, except the words his Master spoke. "Thank you for being the subject of my next lesson. What you could face if I am displeased."

Ignoring the protests in his muscles, Severus replaced his chair in the proper position, and kept his focus on the meeting, momentarily twitching as the after effects of the Cruciatus coursed through his body. Clenching his jaw, he knew he was in too deep, with no way out.

He was too dizzy to really focus on anything except not passing out. Fortunately, the Dark Lord lost his interest in him, so he was spared any more ridicule. The only other thing that sparked his interest more than the pain was the fact that a boy his master called 'Black and Noble' was told to stand aside after the ending of the meeting.

Severus stumbled out of the room into the large foyer, where the rest of the revelers were apparating back to their homes. He was apprehensive that from the shock of the curse and the way his head hit the back of the chair, he wouldn't have enough focus to help him get safely back to Hogwarts.

As the room spun, Severus found an empty chair against the wall and sat down, willing the desire to wretch to subside. After a few moments, he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Severus, take off the mask. It's probably not helping," a quiet female voice said calmly.

Obeying the woman's command, he pulled the wretched silver covering off his face, wiping off the sweat that accumulated on his brow. There, he saw Narcissa Black-Malfoy, staring with feigned disinterest.

"Lucius was quite amused at your spill today," she spoke again.

"I didn't see him there," Severus answered shortly.

Narcissa dug through her pockets and pulled out a few small vials. "He's at all the meetings held here." She handed him the potions. "You probably suffered a concussion. Please, take these. I brewed them myself."

Remembering her adept skills at the cauldron, he took them immediately, gratified by the dulling pain in his head. "Thank you, Narcissa. I hope you're doing well."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's…a bit different than I expected. Being married to Lucius, and all."

He handed her the empty vials and stood up to leave, but the exhaustion written on her face stopped him from apparating. "Is he hurting you?" If there was anything that disturbed Severus more, it was a man hurting his wife, like his father did to his mother.

At his question, she stiffened and shook her head fervently. "Oh, no no. Lucius hasn't harmed me in any way. It's just…well…a bit suffocating, being the wife of the esteemed Malfoy family heir, and then suddenly to the cold and indifferent Death Eater." She grew even more somber. "We are also having trouble conceiving." She folded her arms around her body, as if that would comfort her.

"That usually happens, you know, with pureblood couples," Severus explained.

"I know!" she snapped, "But…you can't help who you fall for." She glanced off in the distance. Severus could see how much being barren was hurting her. Tears were even brimming in her eyes, which was incredulous for Narcissa. Next to him, Severus didn't know anyone better who could conceal their emotions.

"I'll see what I can do for you," he promised gently.

A small smile appeared on the woman's face. "I knew I could rely on you, Severus. Safe travels."

* * *

Less than twelve hours back at the castle, he got a response from Belby regarding the application for the Mediwizardry program at St. Mungos, and he insisted that Severus travel to Durmstrang to settle a few customary procedures to get a foot in the door.

After a grand dinner, the elderly wizard looked over the transcripts and files Severus brought with him for the Potion Master's perusal. Belby was still seemingly impressed, even though he was familiar with the young man's skills at the cauldron.

"I say, Severus, your resume and transcripts blow me away. You are a shoo-in for the Head Healer position at the hospital, if you continue this kind of work after Hogwarts.

Severus smirked and folded his hands on top of the table. "Coming from you, sir, I am honored. So, you think you could jump start the application process?"

"If it were up to me, I wouldn't have you fill out the useless paperwork. This is phenomenal!"

_This is my chance,_ Severus mused to himself. _If Belby wants to bypass the messy paperwork, surely he'll disagree with the loyalty test._ "Sir, what about the tedious entry process? I have heard they are requiring any new mediwizardry student to undergo some sort of…loyalty test. This sounds grueling. Do you think, I mean, with your high position in the research department, you could help me bypass this as well? I would hate to have to waste such time in front of all the other applicants."

Belby raised his eyes from the numerous papers and removed his spectacles and sighed. "Unfortunately, the process has already been streamlined. In fact, the Ministry had already been planning such practices for a while now. They have been keeping it secret until it was perfected." He shook his head violently. "I have voiced my concerns about the whole procedure. It's a violation of our right to privacy. But the wizards in office and on the hospital board say it's only to protect the patients." He looked to his left and right to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Between you and me, Mr. Snape, I think they fear anyone who opposes these kinds of practices. Usually, the more brilliant and powerful candidates succumb to more…radical beliefs, shall we say? These tests just allow the Ministry to keep a close tab on them all." He straightened up, searching for a quill. "But anyways, I don't think you should have a problem with the test. You aren't involved with anything illegal."

Belby turned his attention back to the paperwork and began to scribble on the application. Severus felt like a large boulder had run him down a mountain side. There was no way to avoid the Ministry discovering his involvement with the Death Eaters. He felt his heart crumbling as he realized his dreams were shattered.

"Sir," he began to speak in a hoarse voice, "I don't think I can finish this application."

Belby looked up with surprise. "Why would you say that, Severus?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. "I refuse to succumb to the Ministry's demands. They have no right to suspect any of us of such activity. It keeps them suspicious, and if I allow them to do this one test, it might spiral out of control and they might try to continue to violate our privacy."

The older wizard stared at him with disbelief. "But Severus, you realize you won't have another opportunity to train? These practices are being enforced in all of the hospitals across the continent, and I'm sure even if this war ends soon, it won't be years until the law is repealed."

His jaw clenched, Severus slowly nodded at the older wizard. "Then, I suppose I'll just have to wait…"

After tireless efforts on Belby's part to convince Severus to change his mind, the old man resigned to the fact that the young talented wizard was going to forego furthering his education. Even though he was disappointed, he couldn't help but respect the decision he made.

"We are going to lose a very talent Healer, that's for sure, Mr. Snape," he spoke sadly.

Severus shook his hand, still clenching his jaw to retract the angry frustration and torment that threaten to escape his mouth. "This doesn't mean it's over, Mr. Belby," he said firmly.

He nodded in agreement. "As long as men like you stay diligent, we won't have these flobberworms in office. I will fight your fight with you, starting with a handwritten petition. I'll craft it myself and floo to every corner of this country to get signatures, if I have to." A friendly, smile was put on his face. "If you need any further career advice, let me know. I'll give you my best reference."

Severus thanked him once more, and with great precision, he apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts. How he managed that feat was beyond him. He felt completely defeated and numb. Smaller distractions had gotten wizards splinched in the process.

Even though everything seemed normal around the castle, Severus' life had spun 180 degrees in less than a week. He was facing the wrath of the Dark Lord because of a romantic interest, he had to confront that said woman and convince her to go with him to the next revel (and do all in his power not to get her in harm's way), and now he had to figure out what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life, now that he had no way to get into the medicine program.

All he could do was stare at his soggy cereal clusters. He hadn't eaten a square meal in days. The depression was finally creeping in, threatening his wellbeing. Nothing ever worked out in his favor. No matter what he did, he always ended up failing. There was no one he could really talk to about the situation either. He was lost and alone. Nobody cared.

_Except…_

He had received that desperate note from Hermione, inquiring about his safety. This was the last thing he expected from her, especially because of the state he left her in the last time he saw her. He figured that the time apart would make her see the error of her ways, knocking her out of that trance. But she was still as diligent and stubborn and concerned for him. And with carefully hidden emotions, he penned a note back to her, trying to conceal his true feelings for the girl. But despite his cold words, something inside him flickered with warmth. Hope.

He could feel a pair of eyes staring intently at him as he mused. For a moment, he considered not giving into temptation and finding the source of that weight on his body. But he was desperate. Raising his eyes across the hall, he saw Hermione, and the intensity of her stare was enough to take his breath away.

Fear was flashing in her eyes, which quickly transfigured to worry, concern, and then relief. He imagined what kind of torturous thoughts she was plaguing herself with while he was gone. Seeing him there, all in one piece, although physically and mentally exhausted, was probably one of the most wonderful things she saw.

He met her glance with equal ferocity. No words needed to be spoken. She would find him later on in his lab, as she usually did. But with their gazes locked, he hoped it would tell her the things that words could never adequately speak. Of how he was grateful to be back at Hogwarts, to return to some semblance of normalcy. Of how he desperately needed her presence, to make him feel like he was worth more than just academic purposes. Of how even though he was beaten and prodded by many things in life, he was safe, and that there wasn't anything to worry about, now that they could be reunited.

A small smile spread on her face as she read those complex emotions, and he returned it with a minute upturn on his lips and a curt head nod.

_I'm safe, Hermione. No need to worry anymore…at least when I'm with you…_


	24. A Rational Prophecy

_A/N: 9/11/2001 - May we never forget..._

_Another long wait, I am aware of that. I'll get on responding to your wonderful reviews. I posted in my profile my time is limited once again because I got casted as Janet Weiss in a production of Rocky Horror. I am quite excited, and busy now. But never fear. This story is still churning. As for this chapter, I haven't edited it completely, so do not mind the mistakes. They'll be gone in a few days. Thanks again for all your support. Keep leaving your feedback. It makes me smile. Have a great day! _

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**_CHAPTER 24: A RATIONAL PROPHECY_**

_1998_

"Harry!" a voice called out from the fireplace.

Harry rushed over to the grate, seeing the face of his fiancée appear in the emerald green flames, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"What is it, Ginny?" he asked, worry etched in his voice.

"Remus is awake," she affirmed, and she disappeared as quickly as she appeared. Assuming she had reported from the hospital, Harry hastily stepped into the fireplace and flooed straight to the visitor's entrance of the ward.

As the desk attendant signed Harry in as a visitor amongst the hustle and chaos of the hospital, he all but ran down the corridor to where the Healers were checking the vitals of the resurrected werewolf. Although worse for wear, with a gaunt and pallid face, Remus was alert and responding clearly to the Mediwizards and witches. Harry couldn't help but smile.

Remus finally saw Harry behind all the excited Healers. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" he said, his voice a bit hoarse, but pure joy was shining in his eyes.

Harry couldn't find his voice, and his throat began to choke up. Sitting in that feeble little bed was a man he never thought he would see ever again. And now, he was going to be okay, and live the rest of his life to the fullest. It truly was a miracle.

As the Healers cleared, Harry rushed over to the bed and gave Remus hug, amidst all the wires and tubes through the werewolf's body. Overcome with emotion, Harry allowed the tears he'd been holding back to escape.

"As much as I dread the day Hermione comes back, Merlin, there is a silver lining throughout this whole ordeal," Harry exclaimed. He pulled back and patted Remus gently on the shoulder. "My god, it is great to see you again."

Remus smiled, tears shining in his own eyes and relaxed against the pillows propped up behind his body. "You can't even imagine, Harry. But I'm sure you can relate. I mean, you yourself were given a second chance at life…"

Harry sat down in the chair that was set by the bedside and nodded at his pronouncement, but suddenly became extremely somber. "Yes, but now the question is will Hermione undo everything we've done?" His green eyes peered over the sick man. "Remus…do you, by chance, remember exactly what happened that made you survive?"

Remus sighed and closed his eyes. "Not yet. It's strange. Bits and pieces are returning to me as things get changed in my mind. It's kind of the opposite of having a dream. As more time passes, I remember more of what happened. I think…one day, all the events will settle into proper form, replacing all my old memories." He opened his eyes, and furrowed his brow. "It's just so strange. I can remember Hermione clearly from the first term of my seventh year, but…" He gasped. "The Wolfsbane. My god, she helped create the Wolfsbane!"

Remus began moaning in pain as the memories coursed through his mind. Harry straightened up and handed him a vial of pain reliever potion. "Headache?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Remus said wincing.

"Everyone's getting them, these days," Harry responded disgruntled.

Remus nodded hastily, closing his eyes. "I'm assuming it's from my memories shifting."

"Yes. When a flashback takes you by storm, those headaches come with a vengeance."

The sick man shook his head, and then suddenly froze in place. "Severus," he whispered with such disbelief.

Harry furrowed his brow. "What about him?" he asked nervously.

Remus blinked a few times, struggling to grasp the memory, or rather try to believe that what he remembered was true. "Merlin. One minute, I'm dueling Dolohov, the next minute, a masked Death Eater arrives to double team me. And then…" Remus grew silent, eyes growing wide at the memory. "Then…the stranger sends a slicing curse at his partner. As Dolohov crumbled, he tore the mask off his attacker…" He turned to face Harry. "It was Severus."

Harry's face grew pale. "When did this happen?"

Remus collapsed back onto the propped pillowed and exhaled. "I don't know. Even if things weren't so fuzzy, the entire night was pure chaos. I wasn't keeping track of the time. It was close to dawn, I believe…"

The younger wizard frowned. "Well, that's just about the time he was…." He didn't want to finish his thought. "So, you aren't sure if he was already confronted by Voldemort? His snake…"

"You mean, Severus was killed?" Harry nodded slowly, and Remus whistled in surprised. "Oh…wow. Harry, I had no idea he even died. It must have happened around the same time I did, well, before I came back."

"Yes, well, I'm trying to figure out if he survived this time around."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. An older witch and wizard were accompanied by Ginny, who was handing a small child to the couple. Andromeda and Ted Tonks walked over the threshold, tears in the woman's eyes as the baby cooed at the obvious excited atmosphere in the air.

"Oh, Remus!" the elder witched exclaimed, all emotions released with those two words. She approached the bedside, her grandson squirming in her arms.

Harry knew this very sensitive time was for the immediate family only, so when the baby was handed to his father, Harry backed away, letting the newly revived man cherish the sweet moment with the people that missed him the most. Little Teddy was cooing in his father's arms, glancing up with his big brown eyes and hair changing colors as quick as a flash. Remus was laughing as he hugged the child, tears streaming down his face.

Despite all the chaos that the world was facing, and the trouble looming ahead in the future, Harry couldn't help but think seeing this beautiful reunion was the way life should always be. It was perfect. A father and war hero had the chance to watch his son grow up to be a healthy and happy wizard, and despite all the problems it would cause, Remus deserved just that, and nothing else mattered.

The issues of the past could wait a few more moments.

_Thank you, Hermione Granger,_ Harry thought as the Lupin-Tonks family ushered him and Ginny in for a long and joyful embrace.

* * *

_1978_

As soon as Hermione could finish her academic duties that day, she found herself skipping dinner and rushing to the Room of Requirement. Truth be told, she and Severus hadn't planned on meeting there, nor had they discussed seeing each other since he departed from her days before, but she could no longer wait to see him. She missed him dearly, and Hermione was meters away from losing her mind if she didn't feel his arms around her.

To her dismay, he wasn't in the labs. He had been there earlier. The desks were covered in books and parchment, as if he was beginning another long and tedious research project. Hermione smiled softly as she ran her fingers across the parchment that littered the marble top. Her eye caught the list of books hastily scrawled on the corner of one of the sheets. The various texts were stacked next to the papers, but a few of the titles were missing. That left only one place Severus could be.

True to her deduction, Hermione found Severus in the back of the library, diligently writing information from a large ancient tome. His head was bent forward, making his dark lank hair act as curtains for his face. So intently focused in his work, he didn't notice his nose almost grazing the top of his paper.

Hermione pulled out the chair that was across from him and sat down. Severus didn't glance up from his work, but finally noticed that he was no longer alone.

"Give me a moment. I have to finish this theory before it escapes my mind," he said in haste.

"Not a problem," Hermione said politely. "What are you working on now?"

Severus sighed in relief as he set his quill down, massaging the bridge of his nose. He looked up at her with softness in his gaze, as if she was the most comforting thing he'd seen in days. "It's just a little experiment regarding infertility. Two of my…colleagues are having trouble conceiving an heir, and it's rather imperative for them to eventually have a child."

Hermione nodded. "I see. I guess being Pureblood isn't all that it's cracked up to be."

"Was it that obvious that they are Pureblood?" he asked, not hiding the surprise in his voice.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing else really explains infertility for wizards and witches."

Severus snorted. "Yes. After generation of inbreeding, it's only a blessing that he shoots blanks."

Even though a part of her agreed with Severus's assessment, she shot him a reprimanding glare, and he rolled his eyes, going back to his work. Hermione sighed. Of course he wouldn't dare to bring up the reason for his absence. He was always pretending that nothing had happened.

"So…" Hermione began awkwardly. "Care to tell me what all happened when you were gone?"

Severus stiffened, and his quill immediately froze from its fervent scratching on the parchment. "Oh, you know. It was your standard type of secret meetings. Choice phrases and spells were exchanged, and then we were all sent home."

Hermione, not wanting him to brush off the subject so quickly, reached across the table and placed a tentative but soft touch on the back of his hand. "You know how worried I was about you," she whispered sincerely.

Severus reluctantly met her gaze and nodded. "I understand. I just need more time to process things…"

Hermione frowned, trying to decipher the ominous tone behind his words, but failing to find an explanation. She pulled her hand away and reclined back on her chair, folding her arms across her chest as she continued to scrutinize him. "Well then, surely you could tell me about your meeting with Belby. Did it work out in your favor?"

His jaw clenched. "No."

Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for Severus. Her stomach dropped as she saw the pain and disappointment in his eyes, knowing that his dreams of becoming a Healer were now virtually impossible.

She then saw his expression harden, his voice biting with a coldness she only heard from him when he was her professor.

"And don't you start parading me with your lectures and your 'I told you so' speeches. If it was up to Belby, I'd be a shoo-in for the program. But he doesn't have the authority to bypass the loyalty test, so it's over." His shoulders slumped forward, sighing in defeat. "It's over."

Hermione willed her voice to function. Hearing Severus talk like that, with utter contempt and lack of hope, was tearing her apart. "I'm sure you'll get a second chance, Sev. Maybe not now, but one day this war will be over. You don't have to give up."

He looked at her as if she was insane. "Are you that thick? The only way I'd ever get to be officially trained is if we win the war and we overthrow the Ministry. I admit, I didn't realize how bad things have gotten on opposing sides of the matter. But if I lose the battle, my life is in shambles. I'm sure more programs and training procedures will adopt the Loyalty clause as well. Despite all my hard work and effort, I am going to fail outside the walls of this school."

Hermione looked at him with such compassion, and thought about the path he was destined to take. Severus was right. Even if he picked another career field, his choices would haunt him and inhibit him from success. Luckily in the future, Dumbledore gives him a chance to make something of himself. A teacher, educator, and to some, a mentor.

Her compassionate gaze turned into one of admiration. Severus had truly beaten the odds. She remembered Sirius Black telling Harry that once you become a Death Eater, there was no going back, unless you wanted to die. Severus had not only turned spy for the Light, and risked his life, but survived the First War and nearly the Second as well. To top that off, he was one of the youngest certified Potions Master in the world and a respected mind to all who knew his brilliance.

Although having sympathy for him, she knew he would be alright after Hogwarts, even if she didn't interfere with his choices. But something irked her, like a tickle on her tongue. An itch that needed to be scratched. Severus still had yet to consider other options of a career path. Did he not realize he still had a chance to make a future for himself? Now, Hermione faced a dilemma. She didn't know how Severus had decided on becoming a Potions master prior to her intrusion in this decade. Did the responsibility rest on her shoulders, now that she had altered so much in this present time?

Brazen Gryffindor she was, she opted to take the chance.

"Severus, have you considered entering a potions mastership program?"

Once again, Hermione was awarded with a look of disbelief on Severus's face. "Mastership programs only are eligible for those individuals who have had incredulous amounts of professional time in the workplace. Seeing that I have none, I find that I have a better chance at becoming Minister of Magic than a Potions master."

"Yes, but you're relationship with Belby could warrant something, right?"

Severus opened his mouth to say a retort, but closed it. His brow furrowed as he contemplated what she said, but quickly shook his head. "It couldn't happen, Hermione. Like I said before, the Loyalty clause will probably be put into effect soon all across the country into various training programs. I'll be stuck in the same rut."

Hermione bit her lower lip, a dangerous idea floating in the back of her mind. "Severus, why do you think you and Belby met at Durmstrang?"

"I can't be sure. Belby is a graduate of Hogwarts, I believe. Maybe he was just in the area…"

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No, Severus. Think hard. Think logically. How does Durmstrang set themselves apart from all other schools across the continent?"

For the first time ever, Severus looked completely stumped. "I'm not sure. Is it their rather extreme philosophies on education?"

Hermione pounded her fist on the table top. "Exactly!" she exclaimed loudly, earning a few glares from the students studying around them. She lowered her voice. "Durmstrang is considered a very secretive and liberal, yet highly advanced magical institution. I can't be too sure, but I believe they teach all matters of the magical arts. Languages, from Ancient Runes, to Elfish, to even Gobbledegook. And when it comes to practical magic, well, let's just say they teach the Dark Arts in order for students to totally grasp the full effect of their defensive courses."

Severus's eyes gleamed. "Why the bloody hell didn't I go there?" he asked in amazement.

"You might be able to," she explained. "Along with those extensive courses, they are one of the only few schools that have mastership programs. But they are very competitive and hard to be accepted into."

Severus slumped forward. "Oh, that's fantastic," he uttered sarcastically.

Hemione reached across the table once more and grasped his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "That's the thing, Severus. I think this is what you're made to do. You are brilliant. I'd say even more so than some of the staff here at Hogwarts. If you apply, they would be crazy not to let you in. And with Belby as your reference, well, if he's holding interviews and meetings at the school, you know he has influence there. And because of your…well…loyalties, I think they would have the philosophy of respecting one's privacy. How else do they keep their business so secretive? They have to practice what they preach!"

"So, you think if Belby got me in, even if the Ministry demanded I took the test, the school itself would not dismiss me if I decide not to go through with the procedure?"

"Yes. I think the only way they would dismiss you is if you were convicted. Do you know who the Headmaster is?"

Severus rubbed his chin in thought. "I believe a man named Karkaroff. A rather new bloke there. I overheard Belby saying he's been there for almost ten years now."

Hermione's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, perfect."

Her response earned a curious eyebrow lift from Severus, but he knew not to push the matter further. "It's no use to even ask you what that means. Do you really think I have a chance at getting into the mastership program?"

Hermione smiled. "Do you really think you don't? You helped create the Wolfsbane potion, for Merlin's sake. That, in itself should earn your certification!"

Severus finally allowed a small smile to grace his features. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try," he said, trying to hide his excitement. He was shoving the books aside to find a clean sheet of parchment, and began to write a quick letter to Belby, asking for his help to get accepted into the mastership program.

After he was finished writing, he reclined on the wooden chair, a smirk plastered on his face. "Severus Tobias Snape, Potions master. That does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Hermione stifled a giggle at the irony of it all. "I do have to agree with you on that one."

He continued to smirk, but then it slowly fell off his face. "But what happens afterward? I've heard of Healers and apothecary owners getting their mastership to expand their credentials, but what about me? I don't have anything else to fall back on."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Anything involving potions. You could open your own proprietorship. Or write articles and editorials for journals. Or maybe even…_teach._"

"Teach?" Severus began laughing. "Are you insane? That has to be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"It's not ridiculous! I think you are…I mean, you would be a wonderful teacher. You've helped me so much already this year. You have the passion, not to mention the skill for the art. You demand respect from all, and truth be told, you'd be intimidating enough that no one would cross you, unless they were feeling a bit brazen." Her brown eyes sparkled knowingly at the Slytherin. "Trust me, Severus. You would be a fine educator.

"Perhaps. But let's hope it never comes down to us finding out," he responded, humor still etched in his voice. He began gathering the items around the desk and placing them neatly in his bag. "Shall we head back to the labs? I need to stop by the Owlery with this letter. After that, maybe I can practice _teaching _you how to experiment with various fertility potions."

Hermione stood up and followed him towards the exit. "Mark my words, Severus. You'll be a teacher, and you'll learn to love it," she added after a dramatic eye roll.

"Over my dead body!" he snapped, but placed a gentle hand on the small of her back, guiding her out the doors of the library.

In the back of Hermione's mind, the thought of Severus being dead panged her heart. But then she realized she no longer felt that tickling sensation. That itch on her tongue. She reflected on a philosophical thought Dumbledore had expressed to her weeks before.

"_Yes. Sometimes our destinies are very difficult to make out. For instance, you chose to come back and change the outcome of your future. But who is to say that wasn't your destiny to begin with?"_

Maybe her destiny had changed. Maybe she was the one to push Severus to get his mastership. Maybe it was alright she had expressed her beliefs about him being an excellent professor. Looking at Severus's expression as he walked next to her, she couldn't see any harm done with him knowing. He was happy. Excited, even!

Besides, whether she said it or not, it was true he was an excellent teacher. Her saying otherwise would be farce. And it wasn't like she directly told him he would be the future Potions master of Hogwarts. She simply planted the seed.

Now, she would watch it grow.


	25. To Occlude the Mind

_A/N: I'm back. Life's been eventful. But this is the longest chapter by far, so I hope it makes up for the absence. Just to let you all know, I have a lot of downtime at my new job, so I'll be investing more time into scripting it there, and then transferring it on the computer. I think I'll be able to update a little more regularly that way._

_The end of this chapter contains portions of 'Deathly Hallows' context. I won't tell you which chapter, so I can keep you all guessing as to where I am taking this chapter. So, whatever is italicized and in quotes, it's direct. Whatever is italicized but not quoted is Severus's thoughts. Okay. Hope that's clear. I appreciate all of you who have been following this story even though I've been neglecting to post. Please, if you feel so inclined or moved or disgusted with what I have written, leave a review. Thank you all and I love you!_

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**CHAPTER 25: TO OCCLUDE THE MIND**

Hermione found herself moments later inside the safe confines of _the_ private laboratory. Mentally, she refrained from calling the space "theirs," but it still didn't feel right calling it only Severus's. She spent nearly the same amount of time there as he did, and the wards allowed her access to the exclusive space. Still, admitting the truth made it all so real, and so uncertain.

She was sitting comfortably at the end of the work table, head propped up in her hands. For once, she did not want to engage in the brewing activity that Severus was currently engrossed with. A small smile was on her face as she studied his technique and the eloquent motions his hands were performing on the ingredients. His flow was mesmerizing to Hermione. After so much time in his classroom, she thought she had fully embraced and understood what he spoke of all those years ago in her first potions class. But now, seeing the precise cuts Severus was applying to the roots, the fluid yet unshakable flows with his wand to the bubbling cauldron…it was like a performance.

"You turn potions making into an art," Hermione mused out loud.

He looked up at her and smiled knowingly. "Who said it wasn't?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I just never truly thought of it that way."

"But it is," he continued. "Potions making must be exact. It's a shame no one focuses on it. Too often, it's lowered to the standards of baseless daily activity. 'Cooking' or 'baking.'" He shook his head in disbelief. "If one really understands the art, they have the ability to go beyond what an ordinary wizard is capable of. He could bottle fame, brew glory…"

"Stopper death," she finished for him unintentionally.

Taken aback by her finishing his thought, he smiled gently back at her. "Stopper death. See, you understand, Hermione. You have the talent, and the respect, and the appreciation for all of this." He motioned around the workspace with satisfaction and reverence.

Hermione bit her lower lip bashfully and straightened her posture. "Severus Snape. Potions master and artist extraordinaire," she said with a dramatic flare.

He chuckled in response and returned back to his work. After a few more moments of quiet solitude, he noticed Hermione was still absorbed in watching him. "Are you planning on making yourself useful?"

"I didn't realize I had a job to do," she replied playfully.

"Well, if you aren't going to brew a potion, you might as well brew us a pot of tea."

She rolled her eyes and stood up to do as he asked. "Fine, but I'm not doing this for you. I just don't feel like brewing complex, life altering potions today. I'm feeling wonderfully lazy."

"Well I'm surprised you summoned enough energy to get the tea going."

"That's different. I'm thirsty."

Severus chuckled once more while Hermione busied herself with the kettle and cups, floating them over to a clean table and pouring each of them a spot. While he finished the current stage of his potion, she returned to her favorite activity of simply observing him work.

"You know, I could watch you brew all day."

He approached the spigot to wash his hands. "Aren't you full of positive compliments today, Miss Granger."

_Too close to home. _"Don't call me that. You make me feel so…"

"Inferior?"

"I was going to say young."

He made his way to the table and sat down next to her, gently sipping his tea. "Still, you are being exceptionally nice, compared to how you usually are."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and looked away sheepishly. "I guess it's because I missed you while you were gone. And I was worried sick. And I was so relieved to see you back safe and sound."

She saw the corners of his mouth quirk up to her pronouncement, but it was quickly masked as was usual of Severus. "It's nice to return to a life that's so…routine."

There was heaviness in his voice that Hermione would have missed if she wasn't listening closely. But it was there, masked within the nonchalant and stoic manner Severus usually presented himself with in public. His dark eyes glimmered sadly in the torchlight, clearly confused and concerned with things he didn't want to speak about.

"I'm sure they put a lot of pressure on you," Hermione said anxiously.

Severus snorted in reply. "That's because four out of five of the members can't duel their way out of a burlap sack, if you ask me. My intelligence is invaluable to them."

"Were you harmed in anyway?"

He didn't respond at first. One of his fingers was tracing the rim of the teacup. "Nothing serious," he replied, a hand unintentionally reaching behind his head to soothe a bump that rose there after his chair had tipped over. "A reprimand for not paying attention. But besides that, the meeting was like I told you before. It was just a bunch of masked gentlemen discussing issues, and then we were sent home."

But Hermione knew he was keeping something from her. Severus hadn't made eye contact with her in what felt like hours. "Please don't try to hide anything from me, Sev," she began earnestly. "Tell me what's bothering you."

Severus sighed and his posture fell forward slightly. "I don't like getting others involved in matters that they don't necessary need to get involved in."

She placed a comforting hand over his. "I don't mind. In fact, I want you to confide in me. Please, Severus."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I _am_ telling you! That's exactly the problem!" he spoke harshly. "You don't need to be involved. All of us are entitled to our own choice. Our own alliances. And yet, people at this school, people in our government, people in rebel groups…they want to make those choices for us and for others." He slammed his fist down. "I chose to join the resistance to help gain my own power. It's not up to me to help others gain theirs."

Taken aback at sudden pronouncement, Hermione swallowed nervously, afraid to set him off any further. "I agree with you. Well, not with your choices, but I can't force you to do something you don't want to do. I've learned that the hard way."

"Why can't others see that, then? Why is it only you?"

Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the sorrowful tone in his voice. "What has the Dark Lord asked of you?"

Severus closed his eyes and wrung his hands together in a fist, exhaling heavily. "He noticed my…my lack of attention at the meeting. Usually, my defenses are much stronger when I face people I don't trust. My Occlumency walls are sound, my cloak and mask are on securely, and I usually don't give myself away." His eyes opened and landed on Hermione, surprisingly soft. "But you were all that I could think of that night, Hermione. My mind was constantly returning right here to this very room, remembering everything that had transpired between us." He looked away distraught. "Usually, my presence is insignificant at the meetings, but the Dark Lord made the effort to address me in front of the rest of the members, and I failed to be prompt."

In nervous haste, he stood up from his chair and began pacing. "I can't believe I was so irresponsible! To think that my normal mind shield could have protected my privacy to him! How daft of me!" His erratic pacing stopped suddenly, fear etched in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Hermione. He…he saw you in my thoughts. He hates it when anyone puts something else or someone else ahead of his plans. He's asked me to bring you to our next Summons."

At the news, Hermione could feel her stomach drop and her throat dry out. Perhaps she misheard him. She hoped she did, because if it were true, there couldn't be a possibility for her to return alive and in one whole piece.

"Your Dark Lord wants me to attend his next Revel?"

Severus sighed hopelessly and nodded, affirming the worst. "I'm sorry," he repeated, more hopeless than before. "I really fucked up this time."

"Yes. You did," she answered simply.

He kicked the stool in frustration and stormed to the other side of the room, hands gripping the stone mantel as soon as he reached the fireplace. Hermione remained seated, clutching the teacup so tightly her knuckles were turning white. The various possible scenarios raced through her mind frantically. Perhaps she could run away before he was summoned next. But what good would that do? She had no contact with the outside world, no prospects of a future…absolutely nowhere to go.

_What kind of Gryffindor are you?_ she scolded herself. _Afraid to leave the castle because you're all alone? It would only be a few months, and then you would be transported back to the future._

Trying to see the positive in the situation, Hermione's outlook was still grim in either situation. Face Voldemort's wrath, or return to a life sentence in Azkaban. Neither was a walk in the park.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. No, she was a Gryffindor. That made running away virtually impossible. How could she shame herself to such an extent? It was best if she got her wits together and formulated some kind of plan of action.

"When will your next Summons be?" she asked rather stoically.

Severus's grip tightened on the stone mantel. "I don't know."

"Well, that's helpful," she spat sarcastically. "Perhaps I'll knit him a sweater before we go and see him. I would hate to arrive empty handed."

He turned around forcefully. "Do you really think I would purposely put you in danger like this? The Dark Lord is easily angered and for doing that, I take full responsibility. But your attitude is not going to help make this situation less complicated than it already is."

"My attitude!" she shouted back. "Where do you have the right to scold me about my attitude, when it was your own bigotry and power-hungry nature that has gotten me into this mess in the first place?"

"What are you - "

"Your Dark Mark, Severus!" she said with pure malice.

A muscle clenched in his jaw, finding no appropriate words to respond to her outcry, except the ones he spoke before. "I never wanted my decision of joining the Resistance to affect you, Hermione."

"Here's a life lesson for you, Snape. IT JUST DID!"

Severus opened his mouth to shoot out another harsh retort, but none came. Hermione was right. It was because of him that she was in danger. But it was so much more than that. It stemmed all the way back to when they first met. If he had kept his curiosity at bay, he wouldn't be in this mess to begin with, and now he was reaping the benefits of getting close to another person. As if he didn't learn his lesson the first time.

"And this is the price I pay for having a soul," he muttered, collapsing on the sofa.

His words, though totally self centered, touched Hermione. She slowly approached the long couch, sitting down next to him and peered into the flickering fire. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well, I wouldn't…_we _wouldn't be in this predicament if we didn't get close, or develop this…this…."

"Relationship?"

He was muttering something incoherently, which only made Hermione roll her eyes. "Look, I know you think healthy, fulfilling relationships are 'taboo' of sorts after what happened with you and Lily, but believe me when I say it can only make you a better person if you allow yourself to trust another person and let them enter into your life."

He snorted. "Now, the question is, is it worth it?"

Hermione restrained herself from slapping him on the back of the head. "Please forgive me when I say this, but that is one of the most insulting things I have ever heard uttered from another person, and I'm muggle-born. You have basically signed my death certificate, and now you're admitting everything we've been through wasn't worth it. Does my life mean nothing to you?"

"We virtually put both of our lives at risk just because we couldn't control our carnal instincts."

"Carnal instincts? For Merlin's sake, Severus, this doesn't have to be theoretical or scientific. I understand you aren't a hopeless romantic. I don't expect sonnets or serenades. But you can at least admit you like me more than just beyond human instinct." Hermione reached out and grasped his hand in hers. "You and I are attracted to each other for our interests, our pasts, our minds, and everything else. It's so much more than just a man seeking a woman."

Severus sighed, slumping forward so the curtains of his hair covered his face. He shook his head, out of disbelief or disagreement, Hermione couldn't tell. But he was truly troubled by the whole situation. True, having relationships could make you into a better person, but no one said it wouldn't be a complicated process.

"Once bitten, twice shy," he whispered emphatically.

Reaching a hand to brush back his hair so she could stare directly into the deep pools of his eyes, Hermione smiled softly at him. "Then I guess we should take small steps. Slow and steady wins the race."

Severus chuckled and looked away. "Shall we share any other choice muggle adages? Merlin, my heritage is weak."

Hermione snorted. "Speak for yourself. I'm proud of where I came from."

He rolled his eyes and relaxed against the back cushion of the sofa, extending an arm around Hermione's shoulder, pulling her close to him. This was the first outward sign of affection he had initiated in days, and she was going to savor the contact.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. After working so diligently on potions, Severus always had a unique, musky, smoky smell to his robes. It was a mixture of the ingredients and the metals he used for brewing, and sometimes the smell of his own working perspiration fell into the realm. Some would find the scent off-putting, but for Hermione, it was a sign of intelligence and a focused drive that attracted her so much. She knew it was because Severus was the only one to match her passion in learning.

She felt a gentle pressure on top of her head. Severus was resting his chin there, stroking the hair that cascaded off her shoulders. Periodically, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss where his chin had been resting before. It was all so surreal that they could have a moment like this amidst all the chaos that would soon be ensuing. It was as if the walls of the Room of Requirement were the only safe place Hermione and Severus could be together. She wished she never had to leave.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Severus whispered again in earnest sincerity. "Why do you continue to put up with me?"

She snuggled closer to his warmth. "I've deduced it to three possibilities. I'm either extremely masochistic, I lack conviction, or that I care about you so much to the point that even if you screw up, I'd sooner want to make it right together than abandon you and have you out of my life."

"Or," he chimed in, placing a finger under her chin to direct it towards his waiting lips, "You have simply gone mad."

Her lips were hovering millimeters from his. "Mad for you, maybe." He chuckled softly before closing the distance between their mouths.

Hermione recollected each of the encounters she had with Severus, and she marveled at the different feelings his kisses seemed to present at each event. Their first few kisses were hesitant, slow, new, and surreal. The second meeting was full of passion and desperation and submission. This time, it was sweet, chaste, and unhurried. Her stomach flipped happily as he deepened the kiss.

Neither of them was pushy or desperate for more. They both allowed the scene to develop on its own. Hermione found her hands tentatively loosening the tie around his neck, finally undoing the knot and the buttons from the top of his collar. His hands were tangled in her hair as he adjusted his body to fully recline on the sofa, bringing her down on top of him, never breaking their kisses.

The slow pace they took was easy for them to stop and just lay in each others arms, but as soon as they caught their breath, their lips searched for each other again, thirsty for more. His neck bare, Hermione showered kisses upon the bare flesh, feeling his pulse point with her tongue and savoring the roughness of his stubble that ran across her own cheek.

Suddenly, a light tap on the door roused them from their activities. Severus froze underneath Hermione, listening intently to make sure he hadn't imagined the sound. But it came again, a little more earnestly.

"Who do you think it is?" Hermione asked as quietly as possible. "It couldn't be a teacher, could it?"

His brow furrowed and he shook his head. "I don't think so. Only two other people actually know how to think up my labs when they see the room. And I think I can safely rule out one of them, since we haven't exchanged conversation in years." He said the last statement with a little bitterness.

Hermione straightened up to let him answer the door. Despite her efforts, she couldn't hear what was going on by the door. Both Severus and the visitor talked in hushed tones. Still, she didn't want to make herself known since she didn't know who was at the door, so she returned to a reclined position on the sofa, hiding from the stranger, and hoping that Severus wouldn't invite them in.

After about five minutes, Severus returned to the sofa, an inquisitive expression on his face. He sat down on the arm rest, folding his arms and staring diligently into the fire, obviously perusing his thoughts. "That was…strange."

Hermione sat up once more. "Who was that at the door?"

"It was Regulus, actually. He was asking about the meeting. Which is strange in itself, because I'm about ninety-eight percent sure he was there with me." Seeing the raised eyebrow on Hermione's face, he elaborated further. "Reg and I are both Hogwarts students. We are ranked the same, so naturally we would attend the same meetings." His brow furrowed once more. "Yet, he acted as if he knew nothing."

"That's really unnerving," Hermione responded.

Severus nodded in agreement. "Yes, and then I told him we couldn't talk about it, which was my mistake because he almost invited himself inside. I told him I was in the middle of something. After looking me over once, I think he put two and two together."

Hermione laughed in response, imagining the wide-eyed look Regulus probably gave the elder Slytherin at the thought of him being physical with another girl. "Did you tell him it was with me?"

"No. Frankly, it's none of his business." His inquisitive stare returned. "However, he did ask me where he could find you. Apparently, he wants to have dinner with you to…catch up."

Hermione's eye brows rose in surprise. "I didn't really think he cared for me one way or the other to actually extend a dinner invitation. What is he up to? Why would he want to have dinner with a muggle-born like me?"

"You're a Prewett in his eyes, remember. Maybe he fancies you." Hermione could detect a hint of annoyance in his voice. He shook his head. "I'd be careful around him, if I were you. I think I have to be rather cautious, myself. He's up to something."

Hermione swallowed nervously, not wanting to agree with Severus, but not finding any evidence why he wouldn't be right. "Do you think it involves your…task at hand?"

Severus's eyes suddenly grew cold at the thought. "I don't want to think about it. If that boy even dares to betray me, he'll wish he had been born a muggle and never stepped foot in this castle."

"But what if he is? What am I supposed to do? What if Reg is trying to trap me and send me to Vol—"

"Don't speak his name!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a bit hard to break down the wards of Hogwarts, let alone allow access to your privately warded and very well hidden laboratory by speaking his name."

After recovering, Severus raised an eyebrow. "An outsider like yourself knows about the curse?"

Realizing she slipped again, she awkwardly bit her lip. "Isn't everyone talking about it these days?"

Severus shook his head to brush off the strange coincidence and exhaled. "Anyways…Hermione, I'm hoping you understand that I'm telling you this for your own good, but if you aren't fully prepared for the Dark Lord, it can end much worse than you can possibly imagine. And to help beat the odds, I think it's time you fled the castle."

It was Hermione's turn to raise her brows. True, she had that decision in her list of possible choices, but she had already determinedly decided it was not an option. "Severus, I'm not going to runaway like some sort of coward."

The look on Severus's face was one of complete disbelief. "Sometimes, I feel you had a personal death wish, Granger. It's not cowardice. It's a survival tactic. Why face something you know far well and between is capable of so much magic that you could never live past the encounter?"

"I'm a Gryffindor. We are brave and valiant."

"And apparently stupid," muttered Severus under his breath, which Hermione chose to ignore.

"I don't judge you for your Slytherin instincts. 'Fleeing' the castle to you is viewed as a determination to survive and thrive. To me, it's running away. I'm sorry, but there has to be another way." She paused, looking down at her hands. "Besides, if I leave, where does that leave you? On the sacrificial altar?"

Severus's eyes softened. "Don't you worry. I can handle the Dark Lord."

"And I can't?" she retorted, her temper starting to get short.

"Hermione, there's a difference between being brave and being foolish."

"Foolish isn't the right word to use. 'Selfish' would be appropriate," she stated calmly.

The silence grew thick between them, as did the tension. She heard Severus sigh, finally accepting that Hermione was not going to change her mind about the whole ordeal. "You have to be completely mad if you show up to a Revel wearing nothing but your heart on your sleeve."

Hermione glared at him incredulously. "Well, I'm not running away," she affirmed once more. "What do you suggest I do as an alternative?"

He shook his head in disbelief, as if he thought there shouldn't be another option for her. "Do you know what he is capable of doing to you? Not just physical ramifications, but mental ones as well?"

"I have an idea. I'm not completely naïve, Sev," she responded sincerely. "But perhaps you could enlighten me further."

Pursing his lips at her blatant refusal to be cooperative, he sighed once more, carefully phrasing his next explanation. "He is a very powerful wizard. A…negotiator, of sorts. He can offer the world at your fingertips if he is pleased by what you have to offer on the table. But, he can also break you. The Dark Lord has the capability of knowing your inner thoughts. He can tell when you are lying to him, or when you are being genuinely sincere. If you dare to defy him in any way, it may be the last thing you ever do."

"If that's the case, Severus, how can you even consider working for him? That is a hell of a lot to risk," she stated in shock.

"I have not displeased him as of yet, nor do I plan on doing so in the near future, so the benefits outweigh the risks," he stated coldly.

Feeling trapped, Hermione sighed and slumped back on the sofa. All the traits that Severus spoke of Voldemort pointed to an evil, vindictive wizard, and yet Severus justified that behavior as a way to become powerful. Would he really need another reality check to change his mind about the Dark Arts and what it could lead to? As if the green elixir he concocted wasn't enough…

And there was still the issue of her safety to discuss. She was getting a little frustrated with Severus's lack of empathy in the situation that he himself was responsible of putting her in! And the fact he had no alternative suggestions to protect her if anything ill was to happen made her think twice about his affections for her, like she would only be special to him whenever it was convenient for him. But then, almost, as if he was reading her mind, Severus interrupted her thoughts that made them halt their continuous negative track.

"I may have a solution," he said in all seriousness. "I can't say for sure if it will be successful, but it's worth a shot. Besides, we don't have any other options, really."

Hermione studied him curiously, wondering what he was proposing. "Always the optimist, Severus," she teased.

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Do you feel your mind is capable of Occlumency?"

She snorted. "Of course. I've managed to keep your nosy mind out of my thoughts, have I not?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, very true. But I am only a beginner at Legilimency, so your defenses matched my attack. The Dark Lord is very skilled at both, and your wards will crumble with just one glance if you don't practice diligently."

"Are you thinking about training me?" she asked, a bit surprised. "Do you think your own Occluding skills are strong enough, even after you last Death Eater party?"

"The Dark Lord caught me off guard and I was distracted," Severus snapped defensively. "When I prepare myself well ahead of time, my mind is virtually impenetrable."

Hermione bit her lower lip and analyzed the situation in front of her. He made a valid point. If she had to face Voldemort, she wouldn't stand a chance. But letting Severus train her risked exposing the truth about her, and who knew what that would do to her future.

Still, her options were slim. Be vulnerable and eventually be ruthlessly murdered by the Dark Lord, or protect her mind, albeit at the risk of creating a time paradox, possibly destroying the world.

She sighed in defeat. In full retrospect, the chances of her being murdered were greater than destroying the universe. "Okay, let's start now."

A visible glimmer of excitement glittered in Severus's dark eyes. "Brilliant!" He stood up suddenly and motioned for Hermione to follow suit.

Straightening up, she nervously smoothed out the pleats of her skirt. She watched him rearrange the furniture with a quick flick of his want. Palms sweating slightly, she retrieved her wand and had it ready to defend herself, all the while clearing her mind.

"For now, I will give you fair warning when I'll be attacking. Keep your mind clear, and try to force me out as soon as possible," he said while aiming.

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed before Severus had the chance to cast the spell. "Can you promise me something?"

Severus relaxed his stance. "It depends…"

Hermione sighed, knowing he would be less than thrilled by her request. "If you managed to see any of my thoughts, can you not ask me any questions about them?"

He raised his brows incredulously. "Are you seriously asking me that question?" He continued to stare at her as if she was mad, but finally sighed in defeat at her pleading and desperate gaze. "Alright, alright. I'll mind my own bloody business. It's the least I can do for exposing you."

Hermione released a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Thank you."

Severus ignored her, clearly annoyed for giving into her wishes. His wand was poised once more at the ready. "Shall we? Prepare yourself. '_Legilimens!'"_

Immediately after the spell was cast, Hermione's mind grew hazy at the intrusion, but she managed to battle his advances successfully with her rudimentary technique. The sensation was unfamiliar and uncomfortable, similar to being suffocated. There just wasn't enough room for two people inside her mind. In fear and desperation, she violently forced him to break the connection.

Both out of breath from the exertion, they didn't exchange any words about the initial confrontation. To Hermione, it seemed like Severus was trying harder to break down her barriers. She knew it was his curiosity and annoyance that was motivating him to unlock what she was hiding. Realizing this, it only made her try harder to keep him out.

She saw Severus from the corner of her eye aim his wand at her once more, and she braced herself just in time to hear him call out the spell for the second time. With her adrenaline going, he wasn't even in her mind for a minute before he was expelled, this time with a stinging hex.

"You wench!" he cried out, massaging his thigh where the curse had landed.

"Well, you aren't playing nicely yourself," she snapped back, panting slightly.

"Neither does the Dark Lord, so get used to it," he replied aiming his wand yet again.

Hermione was still recovering from the first two attacks, and not nearly ready for a third attempt. "For Merlin's sake, Sev. Could you spare me few minutes to catch my breath before you violate my thoughts for the umpteenth time?" She could feel a headache forming at the bridge of her nose, a dull throbbing that threatened to take away all her defensive capabilities.

'You'll have less time when faced with the real situation. The fact that you are vulnerable makes it imperative you prepare yourself now, because it will only make your technique stronger.

"Well, that's rich," she muttered unappreciatively, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You would support a mad man who would manipulate the weary and lowly of society?"

He glared at her. "It's not manipulation. It's is taking advantage of the situation. Grasping the bull full front by the horns. Getting to the top no matter what the cost."

"But it's almost…evil, Severus. How can that behavior be justifiable?"

"Evil?" he asked in a dangerous tone. "Hermione, you know so little about the modern world and how it works. There are so many different choices one can make in any situation. Some lead down to roads of success. Morals are roadblocks. They get in the way because they don't allow you to make certain decisions, and you end up turning around and finding a way around the obstacle. In the end, it wastes precious time. Those who decide to ignore these roadblocks, those with the power to do so, tend to find the reward at the end. Even Machiavelli, and idolized muggle, said power means never having to say you're sorry. In all existence, there is no good or evil. Only power. And those too weak to seek it."

Hermione noticed the way his eyes lit up at the pronouncement, and it frightened her greatly. She swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up her throat. "How Slytherin of you."

He didn't respond, but poised to attack once more. It looked like he was going to forego the warning this time, which made Hermione increasingly anxious. She was only a beginner at the art. How could he expect such advanced result so quickly from her? It was impossible!

Suddenly, she felt her mind being intruded, and Hermione couldn't decide whether she should be amazed at his skilled non-verbal spell, or petrified at the fact her feeble walls were collapsing with each passing second.

She was too fatigued to fight back, and a rush of memories flowed to the forefront of her mind. At first, they were typical ones of her and Severus working together, their research, their tender touches and kisses. Then, like a cue, her kisses with Severus turned into kissed with Ron. Then to his marriage proposal, and the smile that lit up his freckled face. She could almost hear his bell tone laughter, mixing in with hers and Harry's…

She felt a mental shove that broke the connection. "What the bloody hell was that about?" Severus heaved in a demanding tone.

Hermione understood there was no way out of explaining what he had just seen, but a part of her knew what he was after.

"That was my ex-fiancée," she whispered feebly.

"The dark haired boy that looked exactly like Potter?"

"No, the red…wait, what?"

"You heard me, woman!" he yelled angrily, finally losing his temper. "This has gone too far. Either tell me the truth, or I'll force it out of you. That boy looked too much like that bastard for it to be a bloody coincidence!"

"He is just a friend of mine from school," she stammered. "Actually, the best friend of my fiancée and me." She became greatly perturbed by the heavy threatening stare Severus refused to ease off of her. "Severus, why are you…"

But Hermione didn't finish her question before Severus attacked for the fourth time. Having no warning and her strength already depleted from the previous attacks, her mental walls instantaneously crumbled at his intrusion.

Hermione was in shock. He had pinned her arms to her sides in a variation of a body bind curse. Fighting it would only use up the strength she had left and it would be futile, so she stopped resisting.

Severus was wreaking havoc in her head. Flashes of memories were sifted through and tossed aside when deemed useless to the Slytherin. He only paused at sights of Harry, of adults that portrayed his worst enemies, and visions of a castle that resembled too much like Hogwarts.

Then, she felt him freeze in horror. A blurry image of a dusty room was becoming remarkably clear. But this wasn't the ordinary memory that Hermione relived in her worst nightmares. She felt herself sinking into it like a pensieve. Back to that old house where she and Harry peered through behind a crate, out of sight to the two men and snake who were currently facing each other for a final meeting.

But something was terribly wrong, because unlike the nightmares she had, she wasn't just rewitnessing the events of that fateful night when her Potions master met his match. She was reliving it in the flesh.

* * *

Refusing to admit it, Severus was generally impressed with Hermione's Occlumency skills. He knew from weeks prior that she had the general technique to defend her mind, but he hadn't tried to tear down her defenses before.

Truth be told, Severus hadn't planned on being ruthless with her. She needed to build her strength slowly. But then, she asked him to ignore any memory he saw. And that not only angered him, it sparked his curiosity.

As he invaded her thoughts, he knew she pushed more recent and harmless feelings in the forefront of her mind. She was putting up a decent fight to keep him there. Once she began throwing him out forcefully, he lost control of his temper for a moment.

And her attitude about the situation was pathetic. It was weak, and it disgusted him because he didn't want her to behave so worthlessly. He thought she had more in her. If she continued to act so weak, he'd have to physically show her what could happen to those who were too weak to seek power.

Holding back no inhibitions, he tore through her mind. She was so drained after the second attempt that the walls disintegrated like dust, despite how hard she tried to fight him. The memories at first were ordinary like before. Flashes of them together from the past few months blended into scenes of her wandering down corridors as a child. Severus noted the towering stone structures looked almost identical to the ones at Hogwarts. How uncanny…

Suddenly, an unfamiliar red head was holding hands with Hermione. They were laughing together by a lake, and Severus found himself growing disconcerted at the sight. His stomach twisted violently, and then the boy kissed her. All he could see was red, until that second boy shared in the happy couple's laughter.

The boy, with his black, untidy hair, and wire rimmed spectacles, was a spitting image of James bloody Potter. Except his eyes. Something about those eyes were so familiar and yet, eerily disturbing.

The laughter from the trio reverberated all throughout Severus's mind. Somewhere along the lines, it turned from a jovial tone to outright mocking. Laughter directed at him, and it was too much for Severus to endure. He violently expelled himself from Hermione's mind, demanding an explanation for the horrific scene he had just witnessed.

When Hermione offered no believable explanation or reason, Severus finally snapped. He tuned out her worthless blabbering, and without mercy, invaded her thoughts, desperate to finally uncover the truth that was Hermione Granger.

The majority of what he saw was worthless to him. He didn't care to see Hermione's childhood days, or the love she was showered with by her parents and family. A part of him was spiteful. She had told him months before she was a fugitive, and from what he could see, she had the world at her fingertips. She had simply thrown it all away. How selfish! At least for him, with a drunk as a father and an apathetic unloving mother, he had nothing to lose.

Severus had a feeling he was passing memories that were important to his search, but his anger was now taking control. For a few curious seconds, he could have sworn he had out-of-body experiences, like he himself was already interacting or role playing in Hermione's thoughts, but he brushed it aside, figuring it was on account of moving from scene to scene too rapidly for his mind to correctly process what he was seeing.

And then, unlike anything he had experience before in his short life, he found himself falling into a dilapidated room with peeling wallpaper. The atmosphere was foreboding, and Severus felt fear grip his soul, although it didn't feel like it usually did.

His body was his, and yet, it wasn't. It felt…alien to him. As his eyes wandered the room, carefully avoiding the caged serpent locked in the corner of the room, he finally recognized the place he was standing in from the events that transpired only the previous year. How could you forget such a place, when you were forced to face a werewolf at the peak of his transformation?

He shivered, but it ended up being a physiological one. It was as if Severus had no control of anything but his cognitive thoughts. He willed himself to escape that desolate room, but his legs did not obey his commands.

Then, his eye caught his reflection from a mirror mounted on the far wall across the room, and what he saw through the glass made him wish he could scream. It was his own reflection, he knew that. But what didn't make sense was that it was aged at least fifteen, twenty years tops.

_How could this be a memory from Hermione's past? _he mused, terrified by the image the mirror reflected. _This is more like…like a vision of the future._

A cold voice interrupted his thoughts. Standing across the room, the Dark Lord stood menacingly, with his wretched snake caged beside him, a sick twisted versions of a pet. Severus also noticed the changes in his Master. It seemed over the years the powerful wizard managed to become even less human, with his pallid skin, beady blood-red eyes, and harrowing slits for a nose. He couldn't be more terrifying to Severus.

The Dark Lord began speaking about a wand, one that Severus believed to be folk lore. "_I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from it's previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore._

_Dumbledore is dead?_ he mused in surprised _"My Lord – let me go to the boy—"_Inwardly, Severus was having trouble processing this entire development. His adult self spoke out of his own control, and the older Severus seemed to have full understanding of the situation at present.

"_All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend say it must perform for its rightful owner…and I think I know the answer."_

Severus swallowed nervously. He knew the tale the Dark Lord spoke of from his childhood, and it connected what was to come next. He knew he had to duel the Dark Lord. He had to fight the most powerful wizard known to mankind.

The Dark Lord spoke once more. _"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."_

To Severus, it sounded as if Voldemort was not speaking of a simple duel. There was finality in his cold tone that could only mean one thing. _"My Lord –"_

"_The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."_

Severus's senses were going haywire with all the realization he was faced with. The Headmaster was dead by his own hand, and completely beyond his rationale understanding. He didn't like the older wizard, but he didn't believe in ruthless murder. Perhaps it was wise for him to be destroyed for committing such a heinous act for no justified reason. But still, a part of his Slytherin instincts would not give up the fight. _Don't just stand there, you coward. Fight back! Defend yourself!_

"_My Lord!" he found himself protesting, raising his wand._

"_It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." _

Severus saw Voldemort swipe his wand in the air. It caught him off guard when the curse he expected the other man to throw at him didn't come. But then, the vicious snake was out of her cage, and her beady eyes glanced hungrily into his own, fearful ones.

As the snake encased and wrapped her powerful body around his head and shoulders, immobilizing him completely, he heard a terrible hissing noise uttered by the snake's master, and he felt a painful piercing in his neck. The snake had fatally bit him.

The scream he released sounded so alien to his ears. It was a vulnerable, condemned sound of a man who has used up his last will of survival. He crumpled to the dusty floor, feeling the breath of life escaping him just as quickly as his crimson blood flowed out of his wounded neck with every last beat of his failing heart.

The younger Severus Snape lay speechless and defeated like his counterpart, alone in the dilapidated, cold, abandoned house. His vision was fading with every last breath. The final conscious thing he could remember was a crate being moved aside, a girl, vaguely familiar, shuffling frantically and handing a vial to that Potter clone, and then staring into his eerily comforting emerald green eyes…

Like a vortex, Severus shot out of Hermione's mind as the memory ended with his older self's last breath. He barely acknowledged the girl as she crumpled to the ground in a fit of tears. Severus himself clasped on the sofa, trembling violently and breaking out in a cold sweat all over his body. His breathing was erratic, as if he was still struggling to maintain his last vestige of life.

That memory of Hermione's was too intricate, too vivid for it to be a fabricated and twisted creation of her imagination. Severus's stomach threatened to react to all that he had witnessed, and his throat began to close up, a sure sign he was about to be sick. He could still feel the strong grip of the snake around his defenseless body, and the fangs aimed straight at his jugular.

Severus retracted forward and vomited onto the floor, choking back a sob. He wiped the sweat off his forehead once his stomach calmed down, but his face still held a sickly sheen pallor to it.

He stared at the girl curled up on the ground with pure loathing. She was finally quiet, all her reserved energy expelled when she was in her fit of sobs. She lay there immobilized, fearful of the man who had just physically witnessed his own demise.

"That was a real vision, wasn't it? A vision of my future," he whispered hoarsely.

She shook her head and stared off into the fire. "It was a nightmare."

"A nightmare? Is that all it was? It was a living, real life bloody nightmare. I just saw myself bleed out and die alone and helpless. For once, Hermione, can you be honest and upfront with me? Is this a true vision of my future?"

Hermione choked back a sob and finally met his cold, unforgiving gaze. "It doesn't have to be," she whispered almost inaudibly.

"Fuck…" she heard him curse. None of them said anything for a long while, the tension at the brink of exploding. Finally, Severus interrupted the silence, surprisingly calm, considering the situation.

"How have these…prophecies…come to you, and in such a vivid format? Are you a Seer, Hermione?"

She continued to look at him sympathetically. "I am not."

"For crying out loud, Granger. Give me a fucking break!"

"I'm not lying, Severus! Please believe me! I just know what you saw is possible to be foreseen."

He stared at her in disbelief. "So you're telling me that in twenty years or so, I'm going to murder Albus Dumbledore, become possessor of this said 'Elder Wand', and be viciously killed by a snake, just so the Dark Lord can defeat James Potter? Frankly, I'd hand the bastard to him tomorrow on a silver platter."

She didn't respond immediately, but as she saw realization dawn in Severus's eyes, there was no way of turning back. "It's…possible."

Severus exhaled and rubbed his face. Hermione studied his face intensely, watching his expression change to fear, to anger, to confusion, and finally returning to disbelief.

Hermione was expecting Severus to yell and scream, shout out curses and obscenities, possibly break furniture and maybe even murder her to top it off. The last thing he would ever do would be to laugh, which is what he began to do.

He collapsed back on the sofa, clutching his stomach as he gasped for air in between fits of laughter. He face had turned crimson with exertion, but his eyes glittered dangerously as he calmed down.

"Oh, you almost had me fooled there, Granger," he said as he caught his breath. "Only the great Hermione Granger can predict my terrible demise, based on the consequences of my actions. Poor, evil Death Eater Severus Snape will get what he justly deserves. Although, I must say, the added serpent motif really set the mood for the whole scene. Bravo, Hermione! Bravo!"

"You…you don't believe me," Hermione replied somberly. "You think I fabricated all of this just to scare you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Of course I don't believe you, you conniving little twat. You've been obsessing with my decision to join the Death Eaters so much that you implanted this tale into your mind with such intricate detail. I am sad to admit you almost had me fooled. But I am deeply impressed. Only the Dark Lord can create such farces into other people's minds. I have truly underestimated you."

"Severus, you don't understand –"

"Save it for someone who cares," he snapped, hatred laced within every word he spoke. "I have put up with so much of your lies and schemes that I can't keep track of what's real anymore. Frankly, I just wish I never met you." He pulled out his wanted with renewed strength, cleaning up the mess he made earlier, before pointing it directly at Hermione. "I want you to leave, and I never want to speak to you again. Once I leave Hogwarts, I will have someone Obliviate my mind of all thoughts and memories relating to you. You will be non-existent to me. And I only wish the worst in life for you."

Hermione willed her shaky legs to stand. Her heart writhed in pain at his loathful dismissal. "Severus, please –"

"Are you hard of hearing? GET OUT! NOW! BEFORE I DO SOMETHING A CIVILIZED WIZARD WOULD NEVER DO!"

Hermione took his words seriously and fled as quickly as she could to the door, not turning to look at Severus as she ran out of the room.

As soon as he heard the door slam shut, he screamed in frustration. A nearby vase that rested on a side table took the repercussions of his anger. He threw it forcefully against the mantle, shattering the glass into small shards that scattered across the floor.

Severus rested his head in both of his hands, too overcome with all that had transpired in the past few hours. But it was certain he could not associate with Hermione Granger any longer if he wanted to remain sane and focused on his plans.

A part of him wanted to believe Hermione, but allowing that to be the truth opened up another variation of Pandora's Box. He was a Slytherin. His sheer determination and will to succeed was his driving force in life, and her attempt to startle and frighten him would only slow him down. It could not be tolerated.

With decisiveness, Severus stood up and reconfigured the furniture back to its original position. Then, with his back facing the fireplace and palms facing the exterior walls of the room, he muttered a long chain of Latin incantations. The doors of the lab began to glow a silvery blue, and it rippled all across the room's perimeter.

When the lighting faded, Severus sighed and collapsed back onto the sofa. Hermione would no longer be allowed access to his labs.

He could finally continue his life without her haunting presence. The real challenge now would be surviving the oncoming months of school with her harrowing memories constantly pervading his thoughts. And that tortuous memory…wondering if in fact it was a real vision of the future.

Painful tears began to escape his eyes. Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe those visions wouldn't have to transpire in the fashion they had presented to him. Needless to say, after the events of that evening, he wished he could speed up the process and end his miserable existence early on.

But in the end, Severus Snape was a Slytherin, and his determination to succeed and make it to the top would win out in the end. He wouldn't let some lying chit harrow his plans. He would have to go on.

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_A/N: R&R_


	26. Regulus's Offer

_A/N: Another long wait, but six weeks is better than the eight weeks from last chapter. Let's shoot for four week on chapter 27. :) Wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa or whatever you do/don't celebrate the end of this month. Have a happy new year as well._

_If there are any extensive grammar errors, please forgive me. I will read over this once more in a few days to just check for more mistakes. R&R with any comments. They make me happy. _

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_**CHAPTER 26: REGULUS'S OFFER**  
_

January turned into February without any words exchanged between Severus and Hermione. For the first time since she had arrived in that decade, she didn't try to change that fact. Hermione had come to the bittersweet realization that things were beyond reparation, in regards to their relationship and also to his future and impending demise. Slowly but surely, as she managed to restrain her impulses of rushing at him whenever she saw him from across the Great Hall, falling to her knees, and begging for forgiveness, the unbearable pang in her heart lessened to an uncomfortable and bothersome throbbing. With her best efforts, she managed to all but completely ignore it and still function rather normally.

Like any typical breakup, Hermione felt extremely lonely. She never fully realized just how much time she was spending with Severus until she had to adjust her schedule and fill her vacant time up with other people, places, and visits. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy watching the Gryffindor boys play Exploding Snap, or participate in the gossip of their dormitory, but something was lacking in all of that. Hermione longed for the intimacy she once had. Severus had understood her better than anyone she knew, both in the past and present. He knew what she was feeling with one intense look from those deep obsidian eyes. She felt completed, and no one else was close to filling that void.

The worse part of the entire situation was that while Hermione outwardly suffered, trying to satisfy her desires by making the tiniest, discrete contact with Severus, he didn't behave as if anything was distressing him. In fact, his behavior was like he had never associated or met her before in his life. His glance passed over his like she was invisible, or rather, like she was any other random student attending Hogwarts. She posed no direct influence on the courses of his daily life. Hermione had half a mind to consider that the memories of her had already been Obliviated from his mind.

Except for the shortest instances where she felt eyes staring into her, the pressing familiar sensation she had first encountered the first few days of her stay. She restrained herself from confirming her assumptions, but she knew it was Severus. Her proof was Remus's acknowledgement. However, upon the werewolf's observations of the Slytherin's lengthy and perturbing glances, they both discovered that he wasn't the only Slytherin paying her mind.

"I hope you aren't the new Slytherin hussy, Hermione," Remus said while pulling her aside after class.

Hermione rewarded him with a confused and annoyed expression. "Of course not. Are you sure the moon isn't waxing? You sound positively mental."

Remus chuckled. "I know. But I just wanted to let you know Snape and Black were both studying you like you were about to sprout an extra head. It was rather disturbing."

That was news to Hermione. Not so much Severus's interests. That made perfect sense. What didn't fit into the equation was Regulus's renewed interest in her. Hermione even remembered how he had inquired after her the last day she spent with Severus. These unfolding details could only confirm Severus's suspicions he had mentioned that day. Regulus was definitely up to something.

With this alert in her mind, Hermione made sure she avoided Regulus at all costs. She rerouted her usual path to classes. She hung out in larger groups (which also helped distract her from thoughts of Severus). And, if no one was available for meals, she snuck to the kitchens herself to take meals from the always friendly house-elf staff.

With all her major life alterations in full swing, she didn't realize it was already Valentine's Day. Small, cupid-like fairies flew about the castle delivering treats and messages to other students. Hermione even received a few from Remus, Lily, Mary, and to her dismay, Regulus Black.

Nevertheless, despite the confetti and festive atmosphere of the castle, despite the notes and candies received from her friends, Hermione felt even more lonesome, simply because the person whom she wanted to spend her time with on the most romantic day of the year no longer acknowledged the fact she existed. So, to avoid the cuteness of couples (particularly James and Lily), she secluded herself to a quiet alcove in the library, where she somberly and anxiously waited for the dreaded day to pass.

It wasn't sulking, she convinced herself. She was behaving like any normal jilted woman would behave. Then again, if she had remained at home and not mettled with time elixirs, accepting the way things were in 1999, she wouldn't even be in this situation. Hermione would be out somewhere, maybe sharing a bottle of win and curled up in front of a roaring hearth with Ron, absorbing the romance and joys of the holiday.

Hermione set down her book and sighed, curling her legs up into her chest. She heaved a sob and buried her fact in between her arms that were resting on top of her knees. Poor, sweet Ronald Weasley. Sure, he had his flaws. His listening skills were below par and he had the tendency to become more jealous than any other man that ever graced the planet. But he had loved her. He had accepted a long time ago that her ambitions in life were not to be neglected, and Ron fully supported her endeavors. Yet, she broke his heart, all for selfish motives. How heartless and conceited was she?

The entire situation was bleak. Severus and she were through, and Ron would never forgive her. She risked all that she had and lost in all in one hand. The truth was now obvious. Hermione had nothing to go back to.

Tears began falling freely with no sign of stopping. Emotionally overwhelmed, everything she had been repressing rushed forward like a tidal wave, and this time she stopped trying to fight it all.

Hermione missed Ron and the pure feeling of safety he had always given her. The guilt of breaking his heart manifested into a sensation of suffocation. She didn't bother to try and catch her breath. Frankly, she felt she deserved any type of torturous outcome for her behavior. The more painful it was, the more justice would be served.

Suddenly, Hermione came to a stark realization. _This must be how Severus always felt when it came down to his choices._ Looking back, she could not recall a time where Severus outwardly defended himself, or spoke up on his own behalf, save for the time that he told Dumbledore he asked too much from him. After the years of being a Death Eater, he still believed nothing could redeem him from his past. Even being a spy. Even forcing his own hand to murder Dumbledore. Severus had accepted the idea that everything he had to do for the Order was retribution of his actions, and whatever consequences erupted was well deserved. He believed he deserved nothing more than hatred and contempt from the rest of society.

Hermione swallowed thickly at wiped vigorously at her eyes. What she had done for him, to go back in time and rescue him from his demise, would be something the future Severus Snape would loathe to the utmost extent. It went against his whole philosophy of life. She, in a way, was disgracing his name by making him feel even more unworthy of salvation, just because she had taken away his ability to choose his own path of retribution.

_Good thing he'll still be dead when you arrive home,_ her conscience chided rudely, and a new onslaught of tears blasted through her thin and weak emotional walls.

Hermione lost track of time as she continued to sob. It wasn't like she had anything better to do. She was oblivious to her surrounds. If she had paid any attention, Hermione would have noticed a hesitant figure approaching the hidden alcove.

"Hermione?" the intruder spoke cautiously.

Immediately, Hermione stiffened, recognizing the voice as one she was told to avoid. "Leave me alone, Regulus."

His footsteps faltered at the rude dismissal, but his attitude spoke otherwise. "I wasn't planning on bothering you. I only came over to fetch a book, and you just happen to be here." He walked to a nearby shelf and without looking pulled a large tome from the bookshelf. "Carry on," she said smugly.

Her patience already thin from her emotional upheaval, Regulus's comments irked her. "Is there some reason you've taken a sudden interest in me, or do you take pride in your pathetic stalking abilities?"

Hermione saw his shoulders stiffen. Regulus held the book in a vice grip, obviously trying to control his temper. His cold stare challenged her own contemptuous gaze. "The last time I checked, Granger, I haven't done anything to deserve your animosity."

"Do I need a reason?" she asked rudely. "I know you're up to something, and don't even try to deny it."

Despite her upfront confrontation, Regulus didn't seem at all bothered by the rash accusations she threw at him. He issued a soft chuckle and sat down on the opposite end of the alcove. "Let me guess. Snape told you to be a spineless cowardly lioness, a far opposite nature of the Gryffindor you truly are, and advised you to watch over your shoulder at every possible moment, in fears of Regulus Black attacking you." He snorted and shook his head once more. "Honestly, I think the chances of my idiot brother attacking you are greater."

Despite herself, a part of Hermione smiled in response and began to relax. "Can you blame him, really? He is a Slytherin, after all. He knows the inner workings of your mind."

"Severus is brilliant, but he has a tendency to read into something so deeply that he misreads the simplest notions and draws up the wrong conclusions," Regulus said rightfully.

Hermione looked away and shrugged her shoulders. "He means well…"

He huffed impatiently. "As if, Hermione. He's only out for his own personal gain at the expense of others."

"And what Slytherin isn't?" she said softly in Severus's defense.

Regulus shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you'd reward him with any excuse. He's behaving like a petulant child. To think that he could just toss you aside like that! He'll never find another woman like you. Severus never realizes what he actually has until it's gone." Reg ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "The worst part of it all is that there's a chance he'll never openly acknowledge it."

"Severus is not all at fault," Hermione responded defeatedly. "In fact, he uncovered the truth as to why I am in trouble, and it was too much for him to accept."

"Your past couldn't be as tortuous and mangled as his," Reg commented sympathetically. "In fact, I would have hoped his past would have helped him understand."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, saying nothing more. She was too fragile to analyze what he was saying, and she was not in the mood to cry on Reg's shoulder. Speaking about it would betray her currently calm resolve. She stared out the foggy window, trying to become more stoic about it all.

Regulus stood up from his seat and sighed. "If it's any consolation, I think he's insane for not giving you another chance. It's obvious you love him very much. Who would willingly give something like that up?"

At the mention of love, Hermione swore she gave herself minor whiplash from the sudden movement of her neck, taken aback at his words. "Excuse me? Love? I do not love Severus Snape." But her fact began to fall as the truth of the matter finally sunk in.

Hermione felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You know, he doesn't deserve any of it. You're better than that," she heard him say.

She pushed his hand off her. "Don't say that about him. I've already said he's not the only one at fault."

"Why are you forcing this self loathing torture on yourself? Severus is a git."

"Well then, I chose to be with a git, and Severus had every right to end things with me. I upset him…" her voice trailed off somberly.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Reg said softly. "Ever since Severus had his fall out with Lily, he closed himself out from everybody. That is, until he met you."

Hermione smiled sadly. "It wasn't too difficult." She sighed and curled up once more. "What should I do?" she asked feebly, hiding her face so he wouldn't see the tears begin to fall.

Reg sighed. "I would personally stop trying. Sometimes, it's better if you just let it go and move on."

Hermione choked back a sob. "I can't."

Regulus continued to stand there silently watching her cry. Hermione began wiping at her eyes. She was about to ask him to leave. His calm resolute attitude about forgetting Severus was not doing much to comfort her, and she would rather weep alone and in peace. But then, he broke the silence.

"What if…that is to say…if I get Severus to meet me in the Potion's corridor late tomorrow around ten, would you just happen to be aimlessly walking that same corridor?"

Instantly, her tears stopped falling, understanding what Regulus was going to do. "Severus would never approve of such deceitful behavior, Reg."

"Do you want to make up with him or not, Granger? He isn't going to talk to you in any other circumstances. What do you got to lose?"

Hermione looked away from Reg, letting everything sink in. He was right. Severus would stay true to his word and never associate himself with her again unless she took the initiative to change that. And now, the opportunity was being presented to her in the form of Regulus Black.

However, something was nagging the back of her mind. A little voice was telling her she shouldn't go in on the plan. There was something dangerous, something untrustworthy. There had to be a catch…

But she was desperate to see Severus again. To speak with him. To at least get some closure. "You would do that for me?"

Regulus shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Yes, but it benefits me as well. I know you are the only thing Severus thinks about on a regular basis. It would save me the troubling annoyance of having him sulk around in public. Do me a favor though, and this time establish the grounds of your relationship with him. This whole "we're just research partners" no longer cuts it for me."

She smiled softly and nodded. 'I'll try, at least. Thank you, Reg. It's very…thoughtful of you. I'll be there."

The way his eyes lit up at her agreement bothered Hermione. Regulus was studying her intently. His breathing, shallow when he was waiting for her response, had now escaped like a sigh. A visible flicker of relief passed through his eyes, but to Hermione, it could have been just a catch in the lighting. She was not sure what his intentions were, and it worried her. Still, she didn't want to give herself away, so she only obliged him.

"I only want what's best for you both, and you deserve to be happy, Hermione." With that, Regulus quickly turned and left.

Hermione contemplated the generosity of his actions. She had anxious butterflies of hope fluttering wildly in her stomach, anticipating her reunion with Severus.

But something was off. That strange glimmer in Regulus's eyes betrayed his kind offer to help her. And even though she never enjoyed using stereotypes, Hermione didn't think traditional Slytherins could be so altruistic, unless there was something in it for them.

Yes, Regulus was indeed up to something suspicious.

* * *

Severus knew he was going to be summoned.

It was something he had been anticipating for a week. And with the holiday distracting the general public, it was sure enough that the Dark Lord would try and put the focus back where he wanted it to be.

Regulus must have known half as much. He had mentioned they should travel together when the summons arose. Severus grudgingly obliged. Strangely enough, the young man who he used to be friends with was becoming too hard to tolerate. If Reg wasn't seeking him out to "just say hello to an old chap", he was asking persistent questions about Hermione and when they were going to reconcile their difference.

Severus had hoped that if she humored Reg, answering tersely but politely, the boy would eventually leave him in peace. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. And now, it was just pure unadulterated annoyance.

Still, Severus needed to keep an eye on him. Reg wasn't as sly as the rest of the Slytherins. His enthusiasm was suspicious. If they traveled together, at least Severus would know exactly where the younger man was during the meeting. If he interacted intently with any of the other members, or worse, the Dark Lord himself, Severus could act immediately. Reg was no match to his magic.

The little light the stars gave to the vacant corridor shone a silver blue glow through the windows as he left the common room. Being past curfew, Severus was alert to his surroundings. If anyone caught him, it would mean he would miss the meeting, and in turn, suffer the consequences.

Regulus was nowhere in sight, to Severus's annoyance. Leave it to him to push for that specific time to meet and be the one late. Severus grumbled to himself, trying to clear his mind amidst his impatience with the younger Slytherin. Last thing he needed was to be caught off guard again, and this time for a pathetic trivial reason like exasperation. That would not bode well.

He arrived at the assigned spot and leaned against the stone wall, his cloak and mask hidden underneath his robes. Closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh, relishing in the peaceful silence of the castle walls. Merlin knew the next few hours were not going to be so, and each trial would test ever fiber of his being.

After a few minutes, a faint thrum of footsteps became audible. Judging by the sound, it was not Reg, unless he was dressed in a pair of high heels.

Because the identity of the intruder was currently unknown, Severus straightened from his relaxed position and unsheathed his wand from his sleeve, preparing for the worst. As she approached, she must have noticed the change of lighting and detected him, because she froze in place.

Severus was the first to confront the stranger. "I'm armed and I will not hesitate to attack. Show yourself!" he said, pointing his wand toward the predator.

The intruder crouched down, setting her wand gently on the floor. When she stood up, her arms were raised to her head in surrender. With slow, delicate steps, she walked into the soft light of the moonlit corridor.

It was Hermione.

Severus's arm collapsed, out of anger, relief, or annoyance, he couldn't place. "What the hell are you doing down here?"

She lowered her arms. "I wanted to talk."

"And I said I never wanted to speak to you again," he said angrily.

"I know you did. And I wish you would reconsider."

He sighed exasperatedly. "Granger, now is not the time."

"Well, you won't give me a chance, so if running you down in a vacant corridor is the only way to get you to listen, then by George, that's what I'll do."

"Hermione, I'm not kidding or making excuses. You seriously have to go back to your common room."

"I won't leave. Not until you hear what I have to say."

Severus checked his watch. Five minutes until the hour. Not nearly enough time for her to talk and leave before he was summoned. With or without Reg. "Granger, I promise I'll give you a full week's worth of time and then some if you would just leave!"

Hermione's burrow furrowed with anxiety. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he replied quickly. "I have somewhere to be and you're being a blatant nuisance. I have no idea what possessed you to break curfew and search me out in the dungeons, but I assure you…"A sneaking realization suddenly appeared in his mind. "Hang on, how did you know I was going to be here? This isn't a very populated and resided area to begin with."

She swallowed nervously. "Just a hunch."

"You never could lie properly, Granger."

She rolled her eyes. "Does it matter how I found you?"

"Of course it does!" he yelled in a panic. "Have you even thought that it was a possibility we were being set up?"

With the Dark Lord's threat of harm upon Hermione hanging ominously over Severus's head, he had planned to avoid the girl when it was a serious possibility he would be called away. If he wasn't around her, he wouldn't know where she was, thus he couldn't take her to the Dark Lord, and that would be poor, albeit truthful and legitimate excuse for his failed attempts.

But now, minutes away from a summons, the wanted girl was standing in front of him, plain as day, and unarmed. This was no coincidence. The Dark Lord must have tried to take things into his own hands by having Regulus keep a lookout on the both of them.

From a distance, Severus heard a clock strike, and immediately thereafter, his left forearm began to burn mercilessly.

A visage of dawning crossed Hermione's face, both from what Severus had said and also by his actions. His face grimacing in sudden pain, Severus instinctively gripped his left forearm."

"Severus, I –"

"Hermione, if you value your life or harbor the slightness notion of common sense, you will turn around right now and rush as fast as you can from me."

"But –"

"Go, Hermione. For the love of Merlin, just listen to me and go!"

Finally, Hermione had the sense to listen and she fled as quickly as she could. Severus could only hope it was quick enough that he could easily alter the memory. He had made sure that as soon as the Mark had burned, his gaze was focused on the walls above her, therefore not actually on the girl.

If he could alter his visions to not have Hermione in them, he could spare her some more time, and perhaps avoid his own death. Severus quickly located a passageway that led him out of the castle. The more time he wasted, the more impatient the Dark Lord would be fore his report, and he knew already that he was in for a rough night.

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_A/N: R&R_


	27. Wizards in Debt

_A/N: I want to thank all my reviewers and folks that have added me to their alerts. Almost up to 200 reviews, favorites, and alerts and that makes me happy. After all, it's you guys that make me want to keep getting the ball rolling on this plot. So, a big big hug to you all, and my best wishes and prayers as this new year progresses._

_So, I made my deadline for this chapter. Awesome. This chapter flowed easily for me, strangely enough. Let me know what you think. __Side note as well, I recently posted a one-shot about Petunia and Severus. I've gotten great feedback from it. For your enjoyment, take your time to check it out. I'm quite proud of it. :)_

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**CHAPTER 27: WIZARDS IN DEBT**

Hermione knew Severus was summoned.

There was no reason to describe the desperation in his voice. Or the sudden way his gaze quickly averted to the wall opposite where she was standing. But the dead giveaway, if by chance there was any doubt of his quick departure, was the gripping of his forearm, and the brief flash of pain that crossed his face.

The most frightening realization of them all was that Severus had been correct in his assumptions about Regulus. Hermione, always the one who tried to see the good in others, fell like autumn leaves to his convincing performance of innocence. Well, she wasn't _that_ naïve. After all, she helped defeat the Dark Lord. Experiences like that made you skeptical of the motives of good deeds that strangers or acquaintances perform.

No, it was obvious to Hermione that Regulus was up to no good long before Valentines Day. But her desire and emotions to reconcile with Severus outweighed the dangers the other boy presented, and she convinced herself that her troubles with his suspicious behavior were no threat to her or Severus's safety. After she almost accepted that things between her and Severus were over, the brief glimmer of hope Reg transferred to her psyche was enough to blind her from the truth of the matter, which was that the entire scene was created to set her up.

Regulus must have been under the impression that Severus would never sacrifice Hermione to the Dark Lord, and being the ambitious Slytherin, he saw it as an opportunity to rise in the ranks and gain the Master's favor. If Severus would not do it, he would, and if he was successful, the Dark Lord would see what a dedicated servant he was to his cause, and he would be rewarded greatly.

The problem with Regulus was that he could only see the goal ahead. He obviously didn't think through everything as carefully as Severus would have. Regulus only considered getting Hermione in the same location as the other Slytherin, and then from there he assumed that she would simply follow him to the Revel. That would never happen. Either he had miscalculated the time making Reg himself too late to transport them both to the Dark Lord, or he really was that thick.

He _was_ that thick, Hermione finally decided. After all, being brought up as a rich and wealth Pureblood meant that you paid others to think for you. Secret ploys like the one he executed were beyond anything he had ever experienced by himself. The plan was haphazardly strewn together, and in the end, he probably gotten himself into more trouble rather than in a position to be rewarded.

_Serves Reg right for mettling in things that were not his business,_ Hermione mused. She hadn't seen him in days, much like the absence of Severus himself. He probably was licking his wounds for his failed attempt. Or perhaps even nursing those said wounds.

An anxious feeling crept underneath her skin at that thought. If Regulus was hurt, then it almost was certain Severus was facing a similar predicament.

The question remaining was whether or not Severus had returned to the castle safely. Only one person would know, and it was the person who was responsible for everything that had happened that evening. And he was nowhere to be found.

The more Hermione pondered about Regulus's motives, the angrier she became. She knew he wouldn't call it quits after one failed attempt of capturing her and taking her to Voldemort. He would try it again, perhaps with more extreme measures. Hermione had to make sure she set him straight.

Her pure wrath at the boy directed her footsteps all about the castle as she continued her search. She knew it was futile to ebb away her disgust and contempt towards the younger Slytherin. But if she lost control of her emotions, Hermione believed she could do irrefutable damage on Regulus, and she didn't think she could easily explain how the boy ended up dead.

A few days after Valentine's Day, Hermione finally found her target outside the Great Hall heading towards the dungeons. If her vision served her right, Hermione saw that he looked worse for wear. Watching him from afar interacting with his colleagues, it could have easily been missed. But as he adjusted his satchel, she saw him wince and transfer the weight gingerly on his shoulder, as if the bones had been recently dislocated.

Hermione hoped it hurt like hell.

A confrontation amongst an audience of witnesses would not be ideal. With a quick discrete flick of her wand, Hermione managed to tear a seam in Regulus's bag. The contents spilled haphazardly onto the ground. Students began to clear the hall and head off to their classes. Regulus stayed behind to clean up the mess his useless bag had left behind. When the room was vacant, Hermione poised for her attack.

She approached his crouched figure, her silhouette casting an ominous shadow over his huddled form. Without realizing it, she had her wand aimed right at his head, the anger bubbling dangerously just like it had when she attacked McPherson all those months ago at the Ministry.

Regulus noticed her standing so close, and he peered up to identify exactly who it was. When he saw that Hermione was ready to hex him, he jumped back in surprise, causing himself to wince again in pain.

"What do _you_ want, Granger," he said hoarsely, as if he had lost his voice rather recently.

Hermione glared down at him. Her position was overpowering and heady, giving her motivation to threaten him. "I could ask you the same thing, except at least for me, I have no ambition to destroy you."

His focus was squared at the point of her wand, and all he could do was smirk. "You're lying."

She jammed her wand into his bad shoulder. He whimpered, but she showed no remorse. "Stop playing games and give me a reason why I shouldn't hex you to Siberia for what you tired to do to Severus and me."

"You have no proof."

"The proof is in your eyes, Black. And all I see is failure."

Regulus's look grew venomous. "You're the one to talk. Constantly moping about, wanting everyone to feel _sorry_ for you because you're new and alone. And your infatuation with Snape is disgusting and futile. Do you really think he cares about anyone but himself? He's just like me, wanting to get to the top. And a twit like you won't get in our way of that goal."

If Hermione wasn't careful, she was going to snap. Her arm began to tremble, her fingers turning white where she gripped her wand with as much strength as she could muster, trying to withhold her urge to hurt him.

Regulus noticed her internal struggle. "You want to kill me," he said as stoically as he could.

She jabbed his shoulder one more time. "It's one thing to wish your death, but it's another thing to act on those impulses. That's the difference between you and me."

"But you don't deny it." Hermione refused to respond. She knew he was trying to bait her. And he was very close to succeeding. "Can't you feel that power coursing through your veins, begging to be released? Keeping all that anger inside is not healthy, Hermione. Do what feels right. C'mon. Attack me."

For a brief moment, Hermione relished the idea of getting even. Regulus, in a way, had tried to kill her. Why couldn't she return the favor? He deserved it, as much. Reg was nothing more than a Pureblood supremacist, stopping at nothing to prove he was stronger just because he was blessed with a birthright.

Hermione studied him as he sat motionless on the ground, a sinister look glimmering in his eyes. How easy would it be to wipe that smirk off his face for the rest of his spoiled existence! How easy would it be to kill him!

Hermione felt her wand aim at the boy's heart. What difference would it make if he died now? His life was meaningless, and if her memory served her correctly, he would be gone in a few short years.

With her anger ebbing dangerously over the edge, Hermione almost forgot _how _he had died. He turned his back on Voldemort and had retrieved the locket, the infamous Slytherin locket, the Horcrux that had tortured her for months as she and Harry and Ron traveled across the country. Regulus stole it and tried to have it destroyed.

_Even better,_ her darker side mused. _Harry and Dumbledore will recover the locket, the _real _locket, and we won't have to go through hurdles to find it at the Ministry. _Oh, how fate was rewarding! She was going to make life so much easier for the lot of them…

But something stopped her form uttering that fatal curse. Was it rationality? Was it fear? Was it her grounded belief about the dark side of magic? Hermione didn't know, but it felt like invisible restraints held her back, something not of this world, which sensed that it was not time for Regulus to die, and that the right choice to make was to let him go unharmed.

Hermione collapsed her arm, but she still trembled. "I won't do it. It would be too easy. You are not my concern. Just tell me where Severus is."

"Why would I know?"

"Because you two are new recruits, and you both attend the same revels. Now, stop beating around the bush and tell me where he is!"

A flicker of annoyance matched the impatience in her voice. "I couldn't tell you. I was rather…indisposed throughout the entire ordeal." He unconsciously reached back to massage his achy shoulder. "I didn't even arrive there with him."

Hermione smirked. "Well, I hope your shoulder is torturing you. And I hoped the 'ordeal' was painful throughout."

"It was," Reg shivered. "Never cross the Dark Lord or you won't live to tell the tale. He spared the both of us mercifully."

She felt her heart close up. "Severus was punished too? Is he alright?"

"I already told you, I don't know where he is, so I don't know if he's alright."

"So he might be lying dead in a gutter for all we know," she spat angrily. "If that's the truth, Reg, you are responsible."

"You're overreacting. Severus is probably a little sore, that's all," he replied, his voice betraying his confident words.

"He better be, for your sake," Hermione scolded, "because otherwise, you'll get everything you got from your Master times ten, if Severus has any say in it!"

Fear was finally breaking down Regulus's strong walls. He swallowed nervously. "Look, I barely saw him that night. All I know is that when we were dismissed at dawn, I apparated back to the gates of the school alone and then I tended to my own wounds. Even if I wanted to wait for him, I couldn't. The pain was enough to almost get me splinched."

"That's not what I want to hear, Reg."

He stood up gingerly. "I'm sorry, but that's the best I can do."

Hermione shook her head and looked away from the Slytherin. She didn't want him to see the tears brimming in her eyes. "Well, your best isn't good enough," she managed to choke out. "I spared your life today, Regulus Black. Don't ever forget that, especially the next time you try to kill me."

"I didn't try—"

"ENOUGH!" Hermione finally yelled, the tension triggering invisible energy through the air. Her outburst sent sparks shooting out of her wand unintentionally. "Your excuses one day will get you in deep trouble. So much, in fact, that you just might feel some remorse for the consequences of your actions."

Regulus had an apathetic look on his face. "Well, when that day comes, you'll be the first to know."

Hermione knew his words lacked sincerity and respect. But the little voice in her head seemed be satisfied with her performance throughout the trying scene. The menacing timbre of her conscience grew to a peaceful whisper.

_You spared him. That is the way it should be, and Regulus will have the chance to redeem himself._

* * *

Hermione had to settle with false hopes of Severus's safety. The day grew into twilight with not a single sighting of the missing wizard. She distracted herself with reading and chess with some of her fellow housemates. Eventually, it grew late enough that she began dozing off in front of the fire. Exhausted, she decided she could manage to sleep in her bed, albeit restlessly. Hours of unconscious tossing and turning abruptly ended when Mary McDonald roused her from her sleep.

"Hermione, something's wrong."

Although she was still half asleep, the tone in Mary's voice managed to rouse Hermione rather quickly. "What happened?" she whispered so she wouldn't wake the rest of the sleeping girls, hoping the dread was not evident in her voice. If it was about Severus…

"I'm not sure, but Remus told me to fetch you as quickly as possible. He seemed worried, and he was out of breath."

Hermione jumped out from under her covers and threw on her bathrobe in haste. "Is he –"

"Outside the common room," she finished for her.

Hermione ran as fast she could down the steps and out of the portrait hole. Remus was waiting anxiously, his face pale and grim.

She felt her stomach drop. "Where is he?" she asked fearfully.

"Near the dungeons," Remus replied, motioning for her to follow. His hands, Hermione noticed, were covered in blood.

Her heart was pounding erratically. She managed to get her breathing under control, but was fearful at what she would find as she followed Remus further down into the depths of the castle. So many questions were racing through her mind. How did Severus get back to the castle? How long was he tortured? Was he alive? She stifled a sob at the thought of him suffering alone, bleeding and dying…

They found him near the door to one of the potions classrooms. Severus was sitting up against the wall, his face a sickly pallor of green. A sheen of cold sweat glistened across his skin, and his eyes slowly blinked open and close, getting the two Gryffindors into focus. He looked worse than anything Hermione had seen.

Still, despite the gaping wound in his lower left leg, he didn't mange to lose his sharp bite. "Her?" he slurred hoarsely at Remus. "Of all the students you could have summoned, you brought this twit?"

Remus began setting wards across the ends of the corridors. "You'd rather me call the Headmaster, Severus? Hermione's the only person besides me you can trust to not run off and turn you in. I can tell this isn't some freak accident. Let her help you."

Obviously too weak and overwhelmed with pain, Severus didn't fight back. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the stone wall, his breathing slowing down.

Hermione saw him drift slowly out of consciousness and immediately reacted. "Don't you dare go out on us, Severus Snape!" She knelt down next to him and made a cut in the fabric of his pant leg, exposing the wound. He winced in response as she shown a light from the tip of her wand. She recognized the injury, but needed him to stay alert. "What did you do to your leg?"

"Splinched it," he managed to utter.

The wound was enormous, worse than when Ron splinched his arm. It traveled all along the front of his leg and some on the back, almost exposing the bones on his shin. The metallic smell of blood began making her dizzy.

"Remus, get me some essence of dittany, some pain relieving potion, blood replenishing potion, and murtlap if there is any in the storeroom. The classroom should be unlocked."

Remus fetched the supplies and Hermione continued to inspect Severus's condition while keeping him talking. "How did you splinch yourself?"

"Apparating."

"From where?"

"A manor."

"Be specific." She noticed his ankle was jutting out at an odd angle. Hermione adjusted it, noticing that he had tried to mend it quickly, but not at the right position. She had no choice but to re-break the fracture and correctly set it so that it healed properly once the spell was cast. Severus howled in pain. She had never heard such a cry before, and because of the shock, she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Still, she had to remain focused.

"You broke your ankle," she said surprisingly calm, while the tears continued to flow.

"And you should have left it that way," he croaked. "That right there was unbearable compared how it was before."

She wiped her eyes dry with her sleeve, smearing a little of his blood across her cheeks. "Where else are you injured?" she inquired hesitantly as Remus returned with the medical supplies.

"There's a gash on my back," Severus replied. "I tried healing it myself. I think it's infected. It was a hard place to aim."

Remus helped Hermione remove the dirty, ripped, and bloodied shirt. The fabric had attached itself to the scab that formed over the hastily healed wound, and pulling the clothing from it managed to reopen the abrasion slightly. Pus was oozing and it was a viscous shade of purple.

Hermione began working immediately on the injuries, pouring deliberate amounts of the dittany on his leg. The wound finally closed up, and she wiped the excess blood away with a wash cloth. Remus handed him multiple vials of potions. Severus shook his head.

"I have an infected gash on my back, Remus. I can't take anything until we get it drained and disinfected."

Remus furrowed his brow. "Well, at least take the pain reliever."

Severus forced the potions away. "The potions go straight to the source of pain. If I take it while the wounds are still open, the magical properties escapes through it and it reduced the effect of the potions in total. And don't make me describe the effects of the Blood Replenishing Potion while the cut is still unsealed."

Hermione shivered at the thought. She was grateful Severus was more alert than before. The human interaction was helping him remain lucid. But disaster could have struck if he hadn't been conscious to advise them on their potion regiments.

Hermione and Remus carefully moved Severus to a position where they could treat the inflamed injury on his back. She covered the area with murtlap essence as a sterilizer before dragging the tip of her wand over the infected skin, creating an incision that immediately shed blood, pus, and water down his back.

Shakily, she wiped at the mess with another cloth and Remus poured more murtlap over the area while Severus trembled in pain. He hissed at the contact while the liquids and healing spells bubbled and killed the germs the wound had collected. Hermione murmured quietly while small beams of light sewed his skin back together. As soon as the spell ended, Hermione gently touched the mended area with light fingertips, and placed a gentle kiss on the fresh pink skin, only imagining what horrors he had to have faced to get those injures.

She swore she felt him lean into her touch.

Severus quickly opened the flasks Remus handed to him and swallowed the contents with no hesitation. He immediately relaxed as the potions began taking effect. Remus breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's help you back to your rooms."

His leg still tender, Severus couldn't manage to stand on his own. Once Remus and Hermione helped him upright, they bore the majority of his weight on their shoulders as they staggered down the corridor to the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room.

"You'll probably need some kind of makeshift crutch while you heal," Remus commented. "And try not to do anything that uses the last reserves of your energy. Just stay in bed."

Severus looked at him incredulously. "Yes, mother," he replied as sarcastically as possible.

Remus chuckled. "Well, at least we know we'll have our old Severus back in no time." He looked at the two of them. "Right. I'll leave you two at it."

"Remus, wait," Severus stopped him as he was about to turn back towards the higher part of the castle. "Thank you for tonight. Merlin only knows how I would have been in the morning if you hadn't found me on your rounds. I'm in your debt."

"No," Remus replied, "just consider this as a repayment for the Wolfsbane, Severus. The lunar calendar is not as much of a burden as it once was. Although, I must say that stuff still tastes like piss."

Severus snorted and shook his head, but accepted the hand the Remus extended. When the men shook hands, the air sparked with magic, a sign that the two of them had sealed the Wizard's debt in full.

Remus bade them goodnight, and Hermione and Severus were alone. The evening's events replayed through Hermione's mind in flashes. She shivered. The same thoughts must have been going through Severus's mind as well. He looked a bit shocked. Hermione had to clear her throat in order to have him focus back to the present.

"Will you be alright going to your rooms?" she asked, concern etched in her voice.

He nodded his head. "I managed my way to the castle with a poorly mended ankle and a splinch wound on my leg. I'm in a much better condition now. But…_thank you." _ He spoke the last words almost like a sigh.

The intensity of those two words almost undid her. "For a moment there, I thought we were going to lose you."

"For a moment there, so did I. There was so much blood…" He shivered involuntarily and said no more, letting the words die. The shock was still on his face.

"How long were you…well…you know…"

"Only a few hours," he replied, eerily calm. "The Dark Lord was hardly involved. The elder members actually took me away. I don't think they planned on much. But most of the worst hits were unintentional. Seems one of the men missed their target and hit a lamp. Glass shattered everywhere, and a large shard ended up in my back. Once everyone was dismissed, I tried getting the pieces out and I healed it, but aiming at your back is rather complicated. I was in too much pain to apparate back to the school, so Narcissa allowed me to stay secretly in her home while she and her husband went away." He sighed in exhaustion.

"The pain in my back was getting worse, and I knew I did a shabby job on the healing spells. I hadn't cleaned it properly. I couldn't get a hold of any decent medical supplies without getting spotted by the servants at the manor, and the infection would start to spread, so I had no choice but to apparate if I didn't want to get septicemia. I splinched my leg in the processed and ended up in the Forbidden Forest, tripped over a root and breaking my ankle while clambering back to the grounds, mended that with as much magic I could generate in the pain, and ended up collapsing here. Remus found me on his rounds, and well, the rest you know."

Hermione shook her head and sighed. "Well, all's well that ends well."

Severus nodded and looked away pensively. They stood in silence, almost awkwardly, as if unsure of where to go from there. Finally, Severus settled the score. "I…I wanted to thank you for what you did tonight. I knew Remus had gone to get help, but I couldn't think of anyone who would have cared enough to help, or that wouldn't have gotten me expelled."

Hermione frowned. "Of course I care, Severus. Why would you think I would stop?"

"I sent you away."

"Do you think that would stop me?" she asked passionately. "After all our fights and differences, and the both of us losing our tempers, a hanging threat of yours is hardly going to stop me from caring about you."

Severus exhaled and his shoulder relaxed at the news. He began chuckling softly. "I think I've expressed this sentiment to you on more than one occasion, but you're barking mad."

Hermione snorted with humor in response. "You lack all semblance of creativity."

He smiled gently at her, but then it faded. "We have to be careful."

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

"No, you don't understand. We can't let anyone know about us. Being in the public eyes makes us vulnerable to their scrutiny and attacks. No one can know about us if we decide to pursue this. It's better that way."

"That's not fair, Severus," she argued.

"This is only temporary. Don't worry." The tone in his voice lacked any sort of sign he believed the words he spoke.

"I don't have much to say on the matter, I suppose," she said with a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Well, the decision is up to you," he said somberly.

Hermione pursed her lips. "Let me think about it." She turned to leave the dungeons when she heard Severus whisper her name softly.

"Hermione…"

The sound melted her heart, despite the frustration and worry she felt for the Slytherin. She turned to look at him, standing hopelessly with his mouth slightly opened, wanting to speak but at a loss for words. Hermione sighed. He obviously wasn't ready.

"Goodnight, Severus. Let me know if and when you change your mind."


	28. Spring Fever

_A/N: So, my original intention was to wait until chapter 28 and chapter 29 were completed, because they might actually work as one whole chapter. But then I answered reviews, and I got excited, so I decided to post this one ahead of schedule. I still have a bunch to respond to, so if I didn't get back to you, I will sometime before I post the next chapter. Thank you all for your enthusiasm. You make my writing task fun. _

* * *

**CHAPTER 28: SPRING FEVER**

_March 1999_

Harry exhaled and rested his head against the back of the wall, trying to get comfortable in the hard, yet elegant armchair outside the Minister's office. He had been owled yet again for a sudden meeting with the head of the Wizarding government, the third one in six weeks. Harry had his suspicions as to what Kingsley was prying into, but nothing he said would change the situation. Frankly, he was insulted that he was under heavy scrutiny. It was obvious that the Ministry was under the impression that Harry had something to do with Hermione's disappearance.

Hermione had done a number on poor Mr. McPherson. It took the Healers and the curse-breakers ages to undo the memory charm she had cast on him after her attack at the Ministry. As soon as the Unspeakable was able to recollect every scrap of detail from that day, an arrest warrant had been out for Hermione Granger.

By now, the pieces of the puzzle had finally been connected. The entire staff running the investigation had concluded that Hermione had escaped the Ministry with the elixir, but they had little proof that she had actually used it, except for the vague sightings in people's pasts. However, the majority of them could easily be discounted, seeing that memories could be altered. People would do anything for their fifteen minutes of fame, so when a crazed warlock reported to the detectives about hunting hinkypuffs with her deep in the Amazon rainforest, they stopped asking for outside help.

Plenty of events had occurred in the present that pointed to the truth. However, when Hermione Granger, one of the members of the Golden Trio who helped defeat the Dark Lord only a year earlier, was accused of a heinous crime, it was difficult to accept it as reality. How could a girl as brilliant as Hermione do such a thing to risk the freedom of all society? How could a girl who fought so valiantly for the Light become so perverse and almost succumb to Dark Powers? It made no sense, so the investigators denied the proof that was in front of them.

But the world was changing all around them, and Harry knew this was only the beginning. So many uprisings based on what she had done had kept him awake for nights on end. Most of them dealt with Lycanthropic rights activists. Those that were suddenly healed were under heavy discrimination, some even believing that they were faking the illness from the beginning, or still hiding it in shame. Nonetheless, Harry had arrived to witness fierce battles between those defending the rights of were-people, and those who wished to separate them from the rest of society.

Remus coming back to life was not making the situation any easier. As soon as he was well enough to be released from the hospital, he had set up W.O.L.F, or as he liked to call it, the Welfare and Outreach of the Lycanthropy Fraternity, a group dedicated to eliminate the stigma of the disease, and getting equal rights for those who have recently suffered, or had been affected by a person who was lycanthropic. It seemed like Remus had found his voice as soon as his life was restored, and it was stirring up trouble all across the country as the movement grew.

Kingsley was under pressure. Between the uprisings of werewolves and the sudden changes Hermione had thrown him throughout the entire world, he was determined to investigate the cause. Naturally, being the girl's best friend, the Minister must have reached the point that nothing made sense except that Harry must have known about her plans. Of course, Harry had been oblivious, but no matter how hard he explained, Kingsley was determined to discredit him.

Harry heard the door next to him open and he sighed once more, dreading the confrontation. Nothing was going to come from it, and yet he had to endure the torture. He entered the office quietly, taking his usual spot in the chair that sat across from the Minister's desk. Kingsley gave him a weak smile and greeted him formally.

"Hello again, Mr. Potter."

"Hello, Minster. What can I do for you, today?"

"Oh, absolutely nothing, boy. Would you like a spot of tea?"

Harry hated it when Kingsley called him 'boy.' It was like he was 14 all over again, but he bit his tongue. "Of course, sir."

Kingsley fumbled with the china and filled two cups with the hot liquid. After handing Harry a cup, they both sipped in awkward silence.

"I've heard they finally settled that fiasco in Havenshire," the Minister said lightly.

Harry nodded. "Yes. It took a while, but eventually the W.O.L.F. aggressors let up on their barricade. I still don't understand why you have gotten the Auror office involved, Kingsley. We specialize in Dark Magic. I feel that if we are to continue to try and control these protests, it's only going to make way for a sudden rise in Dark activity, don't you think?"

"Weren't you the one who requested more hands on training, Harry? This is the opportunity you asked for. We are short staffed in the Magical Enforcement department, and since the Aurors and the Magical Law Enforcement go through the same basic training before parting into their more specialized areas, it only makes sense to team together to bring down the chaos. Two heads are better than one."

Harry took another sip of tea. "I mean this in no disrespect, but I fear we could be causing more problems, getting involved with their peaceful demonstrations."

"The W.O.L.F. is stirring the fire. There is nothing in the laws that discriminate against Werewolves. They are simply drawing their own interpretation of the laws and claiming that they are persecuted by their government."

"The government is the least of their problems, Minister. They aren't protesting the laws. They are protesting their stereotype. In a way, you are right. Only one fanatical W.O.L.F. is needed to turn their peaceful demonstration into a full out attack on the Ministry and the public. But, on the other hand, if you care to study the situation, how is it that the werewolves who are open about their condition are the ones who are without a job, or without steady employment, or without some sort of medical insurance? Surely you don't believe this all to be a coincidence."

Kingsley chuckled, apparently becoming rather annoyed at the subject. "It's clear that we don't see eye to eye on the issues at present, Mr. Potter."

"My job is to fight the Dark Arts and those witches and wizards who practice it, sir," Harry said stoically. "I hate to see my position lowered to the triffles of public affairs. I want to do the job I am being trained to do."

"They have been few reports on Dark activities in the country, and we are not going to let you sit and twiddle your thumbs when these protest are threatening the stability of the nation. For now, you will do as your commander says," the Minister said coldly.

Harry shook his head, disgusted at how the position Kingsley held had turned him into a power fiend. Such is the danger of holding such a highly ranked status in society. "Anything else?"

"Will I get a different answer than I usually do? Will you stop lying to me, Potter?"

Harry's eyes grew cold at his accusation. "You are out of line, Minister."

"Am I? The best friend of Hermione Granger has no idea of her whereabouts? How likely is that?"

"Very likely, seeing that she did this out of pure impulse."

"Hermione was never impulsive," Kingsley snapped.

"You didn't know her the way Ron and I did. Frankly, no one did, and I don't think either one of us is really going to understand why she did the things she did, even when she decides to resurface. True, I never thought she was capable of what she did, but war changes people."

Huffing, Kingsley leaned back in his chair. "That is the most despicable excuse I have ever heard. I know exactly why she did what she did. She thought she was above everyone! She let her status as a war hero get to her head, and for once something didn't work in her favor. She had to get her way as always, and she didn't let anything stop her!"

"Sorry to break it to you, Shacklebolt, but if you only granted her request about pardoning an innocent man, this whole scene could have been avoided."

Kingsley narrowed his eyes. "Don't you dare blame this on me, Potter."

"I'm not, Minister. I'm simply finding the origins of the problem."

A heavy silence passed through the room, one full of tension and teetering on the brink of an altercation. "I don't like your cheek," the Minister snapped. "You fully are aware that this seat I hold requires me to make very difficult decisions. I explained that the majority of the council did not want to reopen the case on Severus Snape. My hands were tied."

"You could have signed off on an executive order!" Harry exclaimed.

"Enough!" Kingsley shouted, slamming his fist onto his desk. "Just for that, Potter, I'm assigning you the task on making the arrest on Hermione as soon as she resurfaces, wherever she is! As pure as you think her intentions are, as much as you think her past will pardon her current transgressions, she still performed an Unforgivable, and thus broke the law."

Harry's mouth fell lax, completely shocked at what the Minister was expecting him to do. "You have to be joking. I can't do that to her."

"Well, I'm not going to give her preferential treatment. War hero or not, she is still a citizen of this nation, and must abide by our laws. Not her own. And the same goes for you. I don't care if you vanquished the Dark Lord. That is in the past, and now, you work under me. You will make the arrest, and you will not try to manipulate the situation to make it favorable for her. Is that understood?"

"I'd sooner quit than do that to my best friend."

"Then resign now, Potter. I won't have it any other way."

Suddenly, a swarm of interdepartment memos flooded Kingsley's office. He swore under his breath, still seething from his argument with Harry, but nevertheless had to end the conversation to try and manage the chaos that was swarming the country. "We'll continue this later. I suggest you think on this deeply, or hand in your resignation. I won't tolerate insubordination from my colleagues, especially now that we are facing unchartered waters.

Afraid he would say (or do) something he would regret, Harry stood up and stormed out of Kingsley's office, fuming with utter hatred toward the man he used to admire so greatly as a young boy. His feet led him blindly back to his own office, where he slammed the door roughly and collapsed onto the long sofa sitting against the wall. Harry had never felt more entrapped in his whole life, even during the war years. At least then it was clear what he was supposed to do. Perhaps that was why fighting the Dark Arts was so appealing to him. The task was more black and white.

Now, facing the situation of leaving his profession, giving up what he had a passion to do, or sending his best friend to Azkaban, he sooner wished he was out hunting Horcruxes again. And, as much as Harry hated to admit it, Kingsley was right. Hermione had broken the law, and deserved to be punished. It horrified him to think about her future, but deep down he understood what had to be done. Analyzing it that way made Harry's decision much more clear. Hermione would have to face the repercussions of her actions. It just would have been a lot easier if Harry was going to be arresting an unknown stranger.

* * *

_March 1978_

True to her word, Hermione managed to stomach the strength to keep Severus at a distance. It wasn't the easiest feat, especially since he was around her constantly, mostly during classes. It was one thing to be civil and work with him on assignments during lessons. It was another to waste away the rest of her free time with only him, like she did in the previous months.

Hermione thought she finally mastered the skill of letting theses deep feelings go. As March rolled in past February, she realized it had been ages since they had crossed the platonic threshold of their relationship. But her resolve threatened to crumble shamelessly in unsuspecting moments.

Severus would innocently pass her potions ingredients during class, accidentally brushing his finger across the back of her hand, making her shiver. If she thought about it, she could still feel the tingle across her skin where he had touched her.

What was worse was when he would peer over her shoulder to check on a brewing potion she was working on, or compare calculations for Arithmacy equations. Hermione could feel the heat radiating from his body. She could smell the smoky, earthy scent that was uniquely Severus, and it was enough to make her knees tremble.

Hermione was grateful their relationship had reached some semblance of stability. Her life wasn't nearly as stressful as it had been. Because she was no longer mettling with Severus private affairs, she only had to focus on the final countdown before the Time Turning Elixir sent her back to 1999. The thought of returning home and the repercussions of her actions were far repressed in the back of her mind. Nothing else frightened her more than the uncertainty of her future.

Severus and she had become brewing partners of sorts and nothing more. During their mutual potions lessons, she would assist in helping Severus with some elixirs Madam Trammell requested for the medicinal supplies in the Infirmary. The arrangement worked for the most part. Most of the conversation shared between the couple consisted of their current brewing task, or the latest school gossip, although they rarely relished in the latter.

Except for one sunny day in March.

Usually, students would be chippery and restless with the changing weather. Spring was upon them, and the promise of warmer, pleasant days distracted even the most rigorous students. More people were seen taking advantage of the milder temperatures and longer spells of sunlight by walking the grounds and spending as much time outside the castle walls.

With the rising temperatures brought the unavoidable cases of Spring Fever. From all over the castle, Hermione could see students pair off as couples. Those witches and wizards who had already publicized their exclusivity earlier in the winter were taken even worse by the fever. The promise of love and the impending signs of war made the more serious couples take the next step into their relationships.

Hermione had hoped that was a positive sign for her in regards to Severus. However, he seemed to be the only student immune to the disease. In fact, compared to the rest of the male student population, he was the only one to turn the other direction, almost like he was immune to the disease in itself.

It wasn't until Hermione noticed the new glittering ring Lily was sporting on her left hand that she finally understood Severus's behavior. The knowledge only made her heart sink into her stomach. What else could it mean but that Severus was still in love with Lily Evans?

Hermione's conscience screamed at her to ignore the entire ordeal. Severus needed to sulk and lick his wounds on his own time. But seeing Severus pale to the likeness of a ghost as Lily flashed her new engagement ring to her classmates and friends in potions, and then watch him almost wretch into his cauldron as Slughorn praised her for the happy news was her breaking point. The difficult part of understanding the entire scene was that Hermione wasn't sure her breaking point was watching Severus suffer, or feeling her heart twist within her chest.

Severus excused himself from the classroom as the excitement continued to spark about Lily's news. However, no one , not even Slughorn, seemed to notice. A good thing too, for the supplies closet cleared out, and Hermione raced to it to gather her ingredients, or rather, her composure. Inside the empty store room, she allowed the tears to stream down her face. If anyone asked about it later, she could blame it on stirring the dust from the higher shelves. And the throat constriction was from her allergies.

While Lily told the story of James's proposal, Hermione hid back in the shadows, letting her sadness continue to escape quietly. She managed to slow the tremors in her hands and gain control of her breathing, but every intake of air was still very raw and painful.

The realization dawned on Hermione. As much as she wanted to deny it, Severus was not over Lily. In fact, he was still in love with her. That, in itself, made it virtually impossible for him to ever pursue something more with her.

Slughorn had called the end of class rather early as a celebratory treat. Severus hadn't returned, so Hermione dawdled around the supply closet, pretending to reorganize the vast array of ingredients. Despite her own throbbing heartache, she wouldn't rest until she saw that Severus would be alright.

She heard him enter about ten minutes later, just before Hermione decided her waiting was useless. She didn't know how he would react. Typically, Severus would brush it off stoically and apathetically, suppressing his true emotions. But every person had to have a breaking point, and Hermione was frightened that this occurrence would be Severus's.

She wasn't getting anywhere by standing inside a small closet. Heart pounding, she took a deep breath and called out to him.

"Severus, is that you?"

Hermione heard his movements stop. "Yes," he responded shortly.

The tone of Severus's voice was flat, which only made Hermione's heart plummet further into her stomach. "Could you help me with something?"

A slam of tools crashed onto the table and Severus made his way to the store closet, obviously annoyed with the task. "What?" he snapped.

Hermione swallowed nervously. She motioned towards the jars high above her reach. "I can't reach the…the gurdyroots."

Wordlessly, Severus reached over her head and pulled the ingredients as requested. He shoved the container roughly into Hermione's hands and turned to leave. She stifled a sob. "You don't have to act like this, Severus," she said sympathetically, quickly following him back to his work station.

"Like how?" he asked shortly, shoving his belongings back into his bag.

"Like no one cares. Like I am an idiot. Like no one sees how this is hurting you. Like I don't understand what you are going through right now."

"You don't understand!" Severus finally screamed. "You've been her for four bloody months. You can't possibly grasp the depth of the matter! Lily and I were inseparable since we first met. For years, I thought we were destined to be together. So did everyone else." He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Then, things ended. We went our separate ways, she never giving me a second thought, except to relish in the thought that she denied me forgiveness. And then, just to add a little more torture, she took up with Potter."

It seemed the loathing locked out his vocal chords and his throat issued a long, horrible, groaning noise that broke Hermione's heart. Severus shook his head violently and fled the classroom. She quickly followed suit.

"Stop, Severus. Please," she called out. Severus abided, but Hermione believed it was because he couldn't muster any more strength to flee. He dropped his bag limply in defeat. When Hermione reached him, she picked up his satchel and placed the weight on her shoulder.

They stood in silence, Severus staring blankly down the hallway as the trafficking students ignored them, continuing on with their lives in a normal fashion, something that Hermione missed dearly about her own existence.

When the corridor cleared, Hermione expected Severus to move on. But he continued to stare out at nothing, completely defeated. It was a look that was so frighteningly foreign to a young man who was usually so decisive.

"You know what's worse about everything?" he asked suddenly, taking Hermione by surprise. "It's the fact she could have any man in the world. A random Ravenclaw. Some unknown muggle that lived in our neighborhood. Hell, even the Minister of Magic. I could accept that. But no, she chose _him._" Severus closed his eyes and shuddered. "A part of me was convinced that they would never work out. Lily would get tired of him just like she got tired of me. But now…" He cursed under his breath. "Merlin, she's marrying the swine. She's going to live the rest of her life with him. Until death parts them from this life to the next. Merlin…he's going to be _fucking _her, and she's going to forget me like I was nothing to her. Her decision…this decision…she might as well take the knife she stabbed me with two years ago and twist it violently."

Hermione had stopped trying to hide her emotions as he spoke. When that pained, defeated look in his eyes met hers, she realized she was unmistakably wrong about understanding him. This was beyond any sadness she had ever experienced, and she hoped she never would.

"You're right," she choked out, "I don't understand how that feels. And it tears me apart knowing I can't do anything to help."

Severus shook his head in disbelief. "I need some air," he gasped, his breathing growing erratic. He grabbed his bag from Hermione's possession. "I really need to be alone right now. Please, don't follow me."

Severus left Hermione desolate and alone in the cold dungeons, wondering as to what she could ever do to help him recover. But as she collapsed against the wall, a part of her feared he was too far gone.


	29. Being Alive

_A/N: Hi. I didn't die, just to let you know. And I apologize for the wait. But, if I said I will never delay another chapter, well, I'd probably be lying. Anyways, I posted this today, and I'll get back to the review responses later after work. I figured a good thank you for your enthusiasm would be a new chapter. Note that I have changed the rating of the fic to M, because in regards to the actual "guidelines" with "adult themes", I've already had a few instances with that. So yes, now it's M. Take that in whatever way you want. __Thank you all once again for your continued reviews and reads and adds. You are all so lovely. _

* * *

**CHAPTER 29: BEING ALIVE**

Days later, Severus had finally calmed enough to function publicly. He even began to converse willingly with Hermione, who was still walking on eggshells when she was in his presence. She knew his calm demeanor was only a front, and that he was suppressing the loathing and murderous emotions about the Potter-Evans engagement. She feared anything would set him off. A person could only battle their true feelings for so long, and Severus seemed like he had been suppressing the truth for his entire Hogwarts career, maybe even longer.

Severus was behaving as if he never had a breakdown, nor had ever been affected by Lily Evans. He was very serene, almost polite. That was Hermione's indication that he was still in silent anguish. But she knew he had his own personal, albeit barbaric way of coping, and should he need to talk, he'd approach the subject when he was ready.

Such a day arrived one day after classes. Hermione was working on an assignment for Ancient Runes in one of the cozy corners of the Library. So engrossed was she in her work that she didn't notice him approaching the table until he cleared his throat. Hermione looked up from her books, surprised at his presence. She sat up and set down her quill, concern for him clearly resonating in her soft gaze.

Severus looked away sheepishly, shoving a hand in his pocket. "I'm sorry about the other day," he began awkwardly.

"It's fine, Sev," Hermione replied sincerely. "I think under the circumstances, any person place in your position would behave in a similar manner, if not more emphatically."

"Don't flatter me when I don't deserve it," he answered honestly. "You'd think that after almost two years of not speaking to her, I'd be able to move on." He looked away from Hermione, crimson staining his cheeks in embarrassment. "Apparently not."

As much as Hermione wanted to convince him otherwise, she couldn't find a reason to suggest that he no longer was in love with Lily, and this tormented her more than before, now that he admitted he had a problem, and that problem was the fact he hadn't let her go.

"She was the first girl you loved, Severus. You told me so yourself. In some way or another, a part of you will always care."

Severus closed his eyes and nodded, a sign escaping his lips. "Still, I don't think that excuses my behavior." He approached the table and sat down across from Hermione, clasping his hands and resting them on to of the wooden surface. "Anyways, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

Hermione studied him curiously. "Of course. As long as I am capable of performing the tasks."

"Oh, you're plenty capable. Moreso than anyone I know." He sighed. "Well, I promised Madam Trammell that I would spend the weekend brewing and restocking the Infirmary's stores, now that spring is almost here. But after everything this week, I really need to get away from the castle. Clear my mind, so to speak."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "But where will you go?"

"I'll probably go to a friend's place. He's wanted me to visit since he moved. I just really need a break from this place."

Hermione swallowed apprehensively. Severus's crowd was not the kind of group she wanted him to befriend. She could only assume what kind of antics they would participate in, mainly drunken and doped carousing. And in Severus's fragile state, he would be enthusiastic at the activity.

Still, a part of her didn't want to set him off. Refusing to help him would be another blow, and Merlin knew if he could restrain his anger this time around. "So, you want me to brew for you?"

Severus nodded. "It's all simple potions. I'll even allow you access to my labs. That way, no one idiotic will tamper with the equipment and make the job more difficult." He hesitated for a moment, looking uncomfortable. "That is, if you're not busy."

"Well, I had plans for dinner, but I'm sure I'll have plenty of time in the evening to get all of that done."

Severus relaxed visibly. "Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. Thank you so much, Hermione. I really, really need this." A smile threatened to show on his normally tense expression. "Take your time with everything. You'll have all weekend to get it done. I'll just leave the list on one of the lab tables."

Hermione politely smiled, a little nervous at his excitement. "When will you be back?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I should be back by Sunday at the latest, really." Severus looked up at Hermione, who noticed the tenseness in the corners of her mouth. He sighed. "I'm going to be alright, Hermione."

She averted her gaze, a little embarrassed he read her so well. "I just don't want you to do anything too reckless."

"I won't," Severus answered.

Hermione met his eyes, noticing his gaze was unreadable, and yet still sincere. She nodded, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. "Then do what you have to do, Severus."

Severus stood up. "Trust me, alright? I have to go. Thanks again. I'll make it up to you."

"Have a good weekend, Severus," Hermione quietly responded to him, biding him farewell, all the while knowing she would be worrying about him until he was safely back in the castle walls.

* * *

Both Hermione and Severus stayed true to their word. Hermione found that Severus's labs allowed her access when she stopped over after dinner on Friday evening. And, like Severus stated, she found the list of potions sitting on one of the work tables. However, she didn't anticipate the substantial amounts of the potions she was expected to brew. It would take more than just one night to finish everything. Still, she had all of Saturday to complete the tasks.

However, as Friday made its way into Saturday, the combination of the beautiful early spring weather and the jovial attitude of her peers drew her to the grassy hills like a siren. The last place she wanted to be was in the confines of the dark, windowless labs, huddled over half a dozen stuffy cauldrons. So she spent her Saturday outdoors with Lily and Mary, watching the Marauders fly over the Quidditch pitch and relaxing leisurely for the first time in a long time.

The guilt for leaving her work behind started to sink in right around dinnertime. All she could think of was the remaining half of her potions list, and it ate at her conscience. If she didn't finishing all the brewing, she felt she was breaking her word, and she didn't want him to feel that way.

Once Hermione excused herself from dinner and arrived at his private labs, she set up the cauldrons for the remaining potions. As the room was filled with the gentle, soothing sounds of the bubbling liquids, Hermione issued a sigh of relief, setting timers on all the cauldrons before retreating to the comforts of the long familiar sofa in front of the hearth. Severus's blanket in tow, Hermione exhaled and laid down on the couch, preparing to get a little rest while the potions finished brewing.

As she stretched out underneath the blanket, her favorite blanket, she turned her body to face the fire, deeply inhaling the scent in the comforting fleece material. And suddenly, Hermione felt utterly pathetic.

She never thought she would become a woman who based her choices on a man, and it frightened her. The relationship she had with Severus was far from healthy, and Hermione knew that. Yet, as she lay on that sofa, in the very room that Severus promised she would never be allowed access to ever again, the very room that he ended their relationship, she still seemed to have forgiven him, despite the trouble he gave her.

Maybe it was because she knew what Severus would become in the future, or maybe it was because she truly loved him, but Hermione knew she was making too many excuses and exceptions for him. Severus had made decisions in his life that could not be justified. As Hermione drifted off to sleep, she was beginning to wonder whether she was able to help him in person. He was steadfast in his choice, and Hermione was far from convincing him otherwise.

There had to be another way to reach him, to rescue him, far from the reach of Severus himself. He would try to stop her from saving him if he figured out what she was up to…

* * *

_Hermione smiled contently. She found herself in the Forest of Dean in the peak of summertime, blooming with wildflowers and fresh, tall grasses. The trees were towering above her, casting a cooling shade from the harsh summer heat. From as far as she could see, she was surrounded by this vast void sanctuary of tranquility. The sun was warm enough to make her thirsty, and her weightless legs carried her down to the lake, where she saw something glitter from across the bank._

_Choosing to ignore the distraction, she sighed and knelt down by the water, studying the crystal clear water, which beckoned her to take a long drink. Hermione dipped her hands in the cool liquid, splashing it on her face in refreshment. She could hear the source of the lake flowing smoothly into the main body of water, but that unknown glittering object suddenly flashed from across the bank.._

_She stood up, alarmed at the silvery iridescent creature that was heading straight towards her. The rushing of the water was growing louder the closer the iridescent object got to her. But as she studied it fearfully, she saw it was a beautiful doe._

_Its eyes were so familiar. So dark and endless. Almost completely transfixed by the gaze of the magical doe, the animal suddenly shifted, exposing a terrible wound to her neck. Crimson blood flowed freely from the wound, turning the lake into an eerie pool red. Then, she heard a gruff cry emitting from the mouth of the doe... Not quite a sob, not quite a wail, all the while crushing her will to live…_

Startled, Hermione sat up and reached for her wand. But as her heart rate dropped back to normal and her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting surrounding her, she realized she was facing the dying embers of the fire in Severus's private labs. She sighed in relief. It was just an eerie dream.

But then she realized the sound of rushing water was still prominent, same with the gruff cries. Hermione connected the dots. She was no longer alone, and only one other person could gain access to the room. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light from the dying fire, she saw a figure huddled over one of the sinks, water rushing powerfully from the spigot. The air felt humid from all of the steam rising from the basin.

Hermione quietly studied Severus's form from over the back of the sofa she was sitting across. Something was alarming about his behavior. He seemed panicked, very rigid in his huddled stance. Then, Hermione heard that disturbing guttural cry from her recent dream, barely audible from over the rushing water, and Hermione knew something terrible had happened.

"Severus?" she said, rising from the makeshift bed and approaching him. He didn't respond, but continued his work over the rising steam in the sink. "Severus?" she called out again, but still he didn't react. A few of the wall sconces lit up as she dashed across the room, bathing the couple in warm light. But as the room became more visible, heavy through the steam she saw something that frightened her beyond anything she had seen since she took the Elixir.

Severus had closed the drain of the basin, so the scalding water was filling it quickly. He was scrubbing his hands and arms vigorously, the skin on his flesh already a violent shade of red. Hermione caught a glimpse of the contrasting shape of the Dark Mark. He seemed to be abhorrent to touching it. Out of disgust or reverence, Hermione was afraid to uncover the truth.

Whatever he was trying to wash from his skin was long gone, but still Severus was determine to eradicate the unknown contaminates on his skin. He scrubbed harder, not deterred by the pain. Hermione feared he didn't _feel_the damage he was inflicting on himself. She had to act.

"Severus, are you insane?" she shrieked, trying to reach over to turn off the water and keep him from doing any further harm. He pushed her off him, blocking her from accessing the rest of the basin and workspace, but Hermione was not going to give up easily. Struggling with Severus's own determination to continue his masochistic practices, she finally nudged him hard enough that his steps faltered, and the water finally stopped flowing. She reached down into the hot water, finding the plug sealing the sink, and the liquid drained as quickly and violently as it rushed into it before.

The silence in the air without the sound of water was deafening. Severus's back faced Hermione, and his stance was rigid and motionless, save for his breathing and the slight tremors from his sore arms. But as Hermione studied his form, she noticed his breathing start to quicken. Hermione raced to the cabinets, fearing he was about to have a panic attack. She needed to calm him down immediately.

A vial of calming drought and a clean cloth was in her hand as she approached Severus before his nerves got the best of him. Instead of having him ingest the potion, she soaked the cloth generously with the potion and handed it to him to administer on his face. He did so quickly, his breathing falling back to a normal rate, and he exhaled a shaky sigh, relaxing his shoulders.

It was progress enough for Hermione, so the next step was to make him comfortable. Severus was still wearing his traveling robe. From the looks of it, the weather was not agreeable. Mud was caked on the ends of the thick cloth, and precipitation glittered on the shoulders. Something that heavy could not let him relax further.

Hermione circled around him, trying to face him enough to reach the clasp of the cloak. With alarm, Severus saw what she was doing, and he swatted her hand away roughly, turning to block her access. She could smell the alcohol him, as well as the musty smell of tobacco smoke as he turned and dodged her assistance. But something was eerily off with the odor. An unusual scent permeated his clothing, and it didn't belong.

Severus was staring at her with a haunted expression, his lowered sobriety making him sway on his feet. To Hermione, he looked very anxious, despite the calming draught. But then she realized it was anxiousness she saw. It was guilt.

Hermione furrowed her brow, determined to get to the bottom of the situation. But first thing was first, and she needed to help him settle. That meant removing his soiled cloak. When Hermione reached for the clasp again, Severus's eyes widened, and snatched her wrist, awkwardly closing the heavy folds with his other free hand. He was cornered between her body and the lab table behind him.

"Severus, I'm trying to help you," she said, a bit alarmed by his behavior.

He shook his head vigorously. "Please, don't," Severus responded, desperation in his voice.

Hermione ignored his request and continued to struggle with his resistance, only confirming that he was hiding something under his cloak. She, in a last ditch attempt to discover his secret, tore with ferocity at the collar of the woolen fabric. Her strength broke the clasp at his neck, and the open cloak slipped from his shoulder and on to the ground, despite his trials to keep it closed with one hand.

What she discovered made Hermione jump back in shock.

His crisp white shirt was spattered with blood. From the looks of it, some of it was still damp. Hermione suppressed her gagging reflex as she recognized the source of the unknown metallic smell mixed in with the tobacco and liquor. Thousands of questions rushed through her mind, and she feared the worst.

"What…what happened?" Hermione asked horrified as her voice returned.

Severus was physically trembling now. "My friends have a twisted sense of taste in entertainment," he choked out.

Afraid she was going to be the one to have a panic attack and not Severus, Hermione raised the potion soaked cloth to her face, waiting for the nausea to subside. She needed to be calm in order to get to the bottom of the situation. But from what Hermione could see, he had a direct hand at what happened, and if his shirt was any indication, he had been quite enthusiastic.

However, not all the pieces of the puzzle were fitting together. Severus didn't look like a man who had just committed murder and _enjoyed _it. He appeared horrified, trembling and almost panicky. No proud person would have huddled over a sink full of scalding water, and almost rub the skin off their arms after performing some horrid act on their free will! Something didn't make sense.

On the other hand, he could be easily playing her for a fool. She couldn't take any chances.

"Can you explain to me why you did this?" she asked him, fearing the worst.

"I didn't!" Severus said, anguish in his voice. "I didn't know what to do. I…I was drunk, and…the others assured me we were only going to…" He groaned, running his hands through his soaked hair. "They had their way with her. It was innocent enough, but then…gods, Hermione. There was so much blood! I tried to stop them, but…I just stood there frozen, and…"

That horrifying cry Hermione hated issued from his throat once more, and with a flick of his wand, another gush of scalding water shot out of the spigot. He splashed his face and hair, stifling his groans with his hands. Quickly, he resumed his frantic scrubbing. "I can't seem to get all the blood off my hands," he choked.

When he reached for his acrid cauldron cleaner to pour onto his skin, Hermione finally snapped back to reality. She grabbed his wrist deftly and knocked the solution out of his hands before he could mutilate himself further.

"Hurting yourself won't change what happened," she said, turning off the water.

"It might help me feel something," he gasped. "Merlin, I don't know how much more I can take. I'm so numb…"

His legs were still trembling. Fearing they would give out, Hermione guided him across the room to the sofa. "You've had a long week, Severus. Everything is being processed in your head in one chaotic fashion. We have to slow it down."

Severus shook his head. "No. I need to repress all of it." He looked down at his current state and almost gagged, seeing the condition his clothing was in. "_Fuck,_" he whispered horrified. In haste, he tried ripping the buttons off his shirt. However, his dexterity was inhibited by his anguish and slight inebriation.

Hermione saw him struggle and how upset he was, so she reached for his hands. "Please, Severus. Allow me." And she deftly loosened the buttons down the shirt, taking as much caution to not touch any of the blood stained portions of the fabric. The state of his undershirt was also horrid, so in haste, she made an incision down the front of it and removed it as well, vanishing them with a flick of her wand.

Streaks of red and brown decorated the usual pale pallor of his skin. Hermione knew she could clean it with a quick charm, but it could not remove the feeling of contamination. She rose from the sofa and filled a basin with water mixed with aloe and lavender to soothe his tired body. When she returned to her seat, she dropped a sponge in the solution, but Severus still hadn't moved from his hunched position.

Carefully, Hermione began cleaning the marks on Severus's skin. He jumped initially at the contact. She couldn't be sure if it was from the temperature difference or from her gentle touch. But eventually, he began to relax.

"So much for my weekend escape," he said somberly, while Hermione continued to rub his back and torso tenderly.

"Well, I suppose it's better in the long run to not put our hardships on the back burner," she responded softly.

"It's more than just that, Hermione. Some people are born with fate on their side. Then, there are people like me that have been dealt a shitty hand. Things rarely ever go the way I need them to."

"You can't blame it on that. Certainly, it has a factor, but you have to learn how to play your cards right. You can't expect to win every hand, and you certainly can't waste your best numbers on a hand that's bound to fail. You pick and choice. Our choice can dictate the results."

Severus stared intently at the dying embers of the fire, pondering everything that had taken place. He stood up by the mantel, whispering a quiet spell to reignite the flames and he pressed his head against his forearm as the wall supported the rest of his weight. The firelight flickered, casting brilliant shadows on his lean form. Something about his had changed that week. Hermione wasn't certain if it was a good or a bad thing. But for the first time ever, Severus stood before her with all his emotional walls surrendered. She had never seen him so open, so vulnerable, and so lost.

And yet, Hermione was sure of one other thing: she was completely and irrevocably in love with Severus Snape. She had suspected it before, but now she finally admitted it to herself.

It didn't matter to her that he was a Death Eater, or that he had participated in heinous crimes only hours earlier. She knew it should bother her, but in her heart it didn't matter. She loved him. Her mind and conscience begged for her to reconsider. But the rational mind could never grasp the matters of the heart.

She heard him sigh. Severus was still staring pensively at the fire, his brooding nature filling the room with such heaviness Hermione could barely stand it. She got up from the sofa, replacing the sponge back to the basin and joined him next to the fire. She leaned her shoulder against the corn of the mantel, studying the troubled young man. His dark hair fell across his face, a curtain protecting him from her anxious scrutiny. Hermione was certain he was hiding on purpose. After all he had endured that week, his usual stoic guard was weak. She would be able to read his every expression.

"It's so strange," he said, breaking the heavy silence, "how much more complicated life becomes the older we get. How trivial our initial problems were compared to what we go through now."

Hermione sighed in agreement, thinking back to all the things that led her up to this moment. "Yes. It's also strange how as children we always fought against our parents and teachers, trying to break the rules. In the end, the rules they set made our lives so easy, so black and white. But now, when we set the rules, things are just shades of grey."

A small smirk turned his lips. "It also doesn't help that we are living whilst a war is brewing."

Hermione snorted in melancholic amusement. "Especially when they force you to pick sides."

Severus sighed, turning his position to study the room around him. "And people wondered why I always isolated myself from the general public." He gestured towards his brilliant lab space. "Why would I choose the chaos and unpredictability of others when I can live in peace in this humble atmosphere? Loneliness is a price to pay for a life of stability and peace. I can trust these walls. I can't trust others."

"Not even me?"

The words escaped her lips before she could catch it. She felt her stomach constrict in nervousness, afraid of his possible rejection. Then, Severus chuckled softly and shook his head, turning his gaze back on her. "Hermione Granger, you are the exception."

Hermione visibly relaxed at his response, but her small smile fell remembering what brought Severus here to begin with. Severus noticed her distress.

"What's wrong?" he asked innocently.

Hermione shook her head. "Things are extremely complicated now, aren't they? I wish I could have your mindset and pretend nothing had ever happened."

"What exactly am I pretending never happened?"

She scoffed with disbelief. "Severus, look at you. I understand that you have been thought a lot of dark times since the day you were born, but repressing everything inside isn't going to solve your problems or settle your issues with others. You saw how that worked with your little 'weekend escape.' It's rubbish, Sev!" She looked away sadly. "I'm not expecting you to be this invincible character. I only want you to be true to yourself, and to me."

He didn't respond immediately at first, just sighed with exhaustion. "You might not expect that from me, but everyone else does. And even if I wanted to try to be more honest with myself, I've been behaving this way for so long, I don't think I could ever function otherwise. It would be too…too painful. I couldn't get on with my life, so in the end, it's easier to just numb myself to the world."

"It's going to be your downfall."

"Well, if that is the case, I surely hope I have someone like you around to help me get back on my feet again."

"Why do you expect that from me?"

The atmosphere in the room suddenly turned 180 degrees. Severus was taken aback by her outburst. "I'm – I'm not expecting you to anything of the sort. Frankly, I find you insane that you continue to come back to me after everything I've put you through."

"Wonderful," she snapped. "So now I'm crazy. Thank you, Severus."

He cursed under his breath, frustrated at getting tangled up with his words. "I didn't mean it like that, Hermione. What I meant was…" His voice died as he struggled to find the words. But Hermione was lost in the intensity of his gaze as he tried to win back her favor.

He took a step closer to her, reaching down and grasping her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "What I meant was, is that I don't deserve you. And you are very special to me."

Hermione turned her head away sadly. "But what about Lily?" Is she special too?"

He sighed. "I would be lying if I said she wasn't. But it's not the same as when I am with you." When Hermione didn't reply, he squeezed her hand once more. "Hermione, please look at me."

Reluctantly, she obeyed, and she was immediately lost in his vulnerability. Severus's defenses were still down. His eyes, full of fear and worry and…_care_. It was a window to his soul. The rawness of it all took her breath away, and once again she was under his spell.

Severus took another step closer to her. "I do have a hard time letting things go. And I don't want to hurt you like that ever. I'm so sorry I can't give you what you need. My situation is complicated, and I wish it wasn't so. But gods Hermione, I'm trying. I'm trying my best to be a better person. I don't need ghosts from my past stopping me from achieving greatness. I don't need them to stop me from being happy, either." He reached up to her face, stroking her cheek. "Please don't give up on me, Hermione. Give me the chance, and I know I can become the person you want me to be."

The sincerity and desperation of his words made Hermione stifle back tears. "You don't need to change a thing, Severus." And she brought her head up to meet his lips.

The kisses were tear soaked and raw on Hermione's end, but Severus responded with equal desperation. His hand was tangled in the locks that were at the nape of her neck while the other brought her body closer to his. This skin of his bare flesh was hot under her fingertips. They continued to hold each other, not breaking the kiss until oxygen was lacking.

Breathing heavily, they continued to stand in close proximity. Severus studied Hermione's face, searching for signs of regret. She too, looked for his rejection, but all she saw was a look of wonder and awe. She ran her hands down his bare back, holding him close to her in an intimate fashion. She rested her head on his chest, hearing his heart race just as quickly as her own. She pulled back, knowing the road the two of them were beginning to venture. Hermione met his eyes, so full of that passionate blaze she could not get enough of.

He swallowed thickly, a flicker of fear rushing through his eyes. "Hermione," he whispered," would it be alright if we just lose ourselves tonight?"

The honesty and eloquence in his words were enough to make Hermione's heart skip a beat. Nothing more needed to be said, and to accept his offer, she nodded slowly, reflecting the same desire that was present in his voice.

Hand in hand, Hermione and Severus walked slowly to the sofa, neither one of the wanting to look away from each other's face. They sat down hesitantly, a bit nervous, yet excited and certain that there was no turning back. Severus leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek, brushing one of her stray curls behind her ear. Hermione smiled and looked away shyly. Beyond that, neither moved from their positions, too afraid to break the tranquility of the moment. Then, Hermione's chestnut eyes met the endless pools of blackness of his once more. If she had any second thoughts about what she was about to do, they would have disappeared by the desperation, need, and hungry longing in his gaze. She slid closer to him, reaching up to the collar of her shirt, and slowly unfastened the long row of buttons, letting the material fall open and slide off the smooth spans of skin on her shoulders.

Their mouths met again, hands searching and discovering newly exposed flesh as their clothing continued to fall forgotten on the floor in front of the hearth. Losing themselves to the sound of their kisses, heavy breathing, frantic touches, and desperate passion, Hermione realized this all meant so much more for the both of them than it seemed.

As she finally lay naked beneath him, she reached above and brushed back the dark strands of his hair that fell across his face as he glanced tenderly at her. Severus's arms were trembling as he supported his weight. There was something different in his gaze. So much emotion in those eyes enveloped her, but Hermione could sense desperation, almost a pleading cry for salvation, and she knew, as her heart leapt with love for the man, that she wouldn't be simply making love to Severus. She would be rescuing him.

Despite the countless hours she had spent with Severus, it was hard to envision the entire picture that made him the man that he was. She only had ideas of his home life, of the poor way he was treated by the two people who should have cared for him the most. She knew the complications he had with his peers at school, facing constant ridicule by James and his gang, and then the disrespect from his own house simply because he was not pureblood. And then, he had his heart broken by Lily.

Her hand cupped his cheek and she stroked the stubble that grew there comfortingly. From all the trials he endured in his young life, it was a surprise that he hadn't given up! But in his state of vulnerability, Hermione could see how close he was to losing hope in humanity and in life. She understood now that everything Severus had gone through was continuously closing him off from others, making him numb to his surroundings and to the pain. But tonight, as they lay bare their feelings and emotions, Hermione saw something flicker deep in those black eyes she adored. It was life, hope, and she knew that he was finally _feeling _again.

The closeness she felt was intoxicating. Her hand left his cheek and glided down along the length of his arm. Hermione relished the feel of his skin running underneath her fingertips. He had barely ever exposed any length of skin above his forearms, and the pallor was virtually unblemished, save for the dark sparse hairs that grew there. But then her eyes met the grotesque tattoo on his forearm. The infamous brand that marked him as a Death Eater.

Severus stiffened above her as she studied the Dark Mark. She never had looked at one close up before. She ran her thumb over the brand, surprised at the softness of something the representing fear and control and dark magic. The flickering light from the fire created the illusion of the snake actually moving, and Hermione suppressed a shiver, remembering what it designated about the man above her.

She looked back at him, alarmed to see so much fear. Severus thought she was going to change her mind! Impossible! Hermione understood now that every little detail, from his lank hair and hooked nose, to the evil mark on his left forearm, made Severus Snape the man she adored, and changing any of those would change the person he was. She couldn't have that. She couldn't _love_ that. Hermione wanted him just the way he was.

To reassure him she wasn't going to leave, she reverently touched the offending skin. Then, she placed a gentle, chaste kiss on the mark, her lips lingering as he shuttered in relief above her.

"I love you, Severus," she whispered, taking the feared leap of faith, knowing full well he was never going to feel the same. But to her astonishment, the fire emblazed in his assured gaze made her certain that he loved her in return, even if the words were not spoken.

Severus leaned forward to kiss her again, before gently sheathing himself inside of her. He stifled a groan of pleasure, pausing a few blissful moments to relish the feeling of being so close to someone he cared for. And yet, it felt like they couldn't get close enough to satiate their need for one another.

He began moving slowly at first. But every thrust dissipated the terrible numbness in his heart that only hours ago threatened to destroy the meaning of his existence. For the first time in years, Severus felt _alive._

The sofa was narrow and rickety, slightly short for Severus's stature. They couldn't avoid awkward missed kisses or a few head bumps. But the awkward imperfections made it…_perfect_. She gripped his shoulders and ran her hands down the perspired skin on his back, encouraging him further as she let the rolling waves of pleasure wash over her.

They continued to move, slowly losing control and losing themselves in one another. His pace was faster, his groans more carnal. Hermione's own cries were becoming desperate as he led her agonizingly close to the edge. Then, her world exploded. Throwing her head back, she cried out his name in ecstasy, willing him to join her, which he obliged a few moments later.

Severus collapsed on to of Hermione, both of them emotively and physically exhausted. As uncomfortable as she was with all his weight on top of her, she didn't have the heart to ask him to move. And she didn't mind the closeness she felt with his face nestled in the crook of her neck. Smiling softly, she stroked his hair tenderly.

After they caught their breath, he raised his head. "I'm crushing you, aren't I?"

Hermione laughed softly. "It's fine, Sev. 'S not like you're heavy."

"Ridiculous," he muttered, rolling on his side to spoon her. The cool air of the dungeon chilled Hermione's exposed perspired skin, and she shivered. Quickly, Severus summoned a blanket near the sofa and covered both of them. The torches dimmed as he settled behind her, wrapping his arms around her small waist.

Hermione felt his lips placing a kiss on her cheek. "You're divine," he whispered gently into her ear.

She sighed contently, falling asleep to the comforting sounds of Severus's own slow exhales as he drifted off with her.


	30. Allegiances

_A/N: Hello! Long time, no post. I apologize. I've actually had this written for a long time now, but sometimes, typing it out is boring. So instead of typing, I've continued to write the rest of the story. I think I have 4 or 5 other chapters done. I had half a mind to post a note saying I wasn't going to publish more chapters until I had completed the story...but that would be cruel. Thanks again for your patience. If you had reviewed chapter 29, I thank you right now. I definitely want to start on a clean slate with the reviews and going back to the old ones I think would be confusing and a bit impersonal. Anyways, I'm here now. If you feel so incline, leave a note. Thanks everyone!_

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**CHAPTER 30: ALLEGIANCES**_  
_

Hermione wished she could say things were smooth sailing the following morning, but reality hit home. Severus was a complicated man, and something as serious as sex would not change his demeanor.

In fact, the only thing he did to acknowledge what happened the previous evening was a tender kiss on Hermione's head as they were aroused from their slumber. But soon thereafter, he announced it was time to gather the potions and take them up to the infirmary. Severus was all business as he transfigured his lab robes into something more appropriate for daily wear. And to Hermione's dismay, he barely made eye contact with her.

She chastised herself for her naïve expectations. Just because he made love to her didn't mean any other parts of their relationship would change. However, it wasn't like things went back to normal, either. Severus was much colder than his usual self. It was the icy indifference that undid her.

Severus never called for Hermione after that night, save for asking her opinion on class related work. She responded kindly, alluding to nothing about what transpired between them, all the while her mind was reeling with longing, just wanting one sign that he cherished all that had happened between them.

However, just at the moment things look bleak, Hermione would glance over at Severus, expecting his usual cold, indifferent, closed off expression. But it would catch him off guard, and before he threw his walls up, she would see that possessive fire, that blazing passion she rarely saw but confirmed that there was more to their relationship than a one night stand. It took her breath away. Still, those moments were few and far becoming. Hermione knew Severus was avoiding her on purpose. She rolled her eyes, remembering how he said he was trying to become a better person. If his behavior was any consideration or sign of attempt, she didn't want to know what he was like when he conceded.

Two weeks after that night, Hermione was eating breakfast with her Gryffindor classmates, paying close attention to the conversations around her. She was desperate for any source of distraction. But naturally, her eyes would be drawn across the hall to the Slytherin table. After a few minutes of her personal revere, a bizarre piece of news snapped her focus back on her friends sitting next to her.

"Her assumed occupation doesn't matter, Peter. It was murder and nothing can make that justifiable!"

"What was that, Alice?" Hermione interrupted, curious yet disturbed at the topic of conversation.

"We're talking about this," Alice replied, sliding over a copy of the Daily Prophet with disgust. "A young muggle woman was found murdered outside Kensington two weeks ago, beaten and stabbed to death. It was in a wizarding pub, which is why it's so troublesome. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it."

Hermione leaned forward and studied the article before Peter coughed impatiently. "I don't understand what the fuss is all about. How can they even prove a wizard did it? A muggle could have easily been with the wizards who brought them to the pub, and he or she could have been capable of stabbing another senseless muggle, especially if she's a tramp."

"Read the facts, Pettigrew!" Alice snapped. "They used a poisoned dagger. And all the cuts were intricately dictated." She swallowed anxiously. "They put a Dark Mark on her stomach, for Merlin's sake!"

Hermione returned to the newspaper, horrified at the description of the crime scene. What followed that shocked her more. "They're closing the case? Have the suspects been apprehended?"

"No! The Prophet didn't print this, but my father told me the victim was a prostitute, and what Crouch told him was that there were more pressing cases and darker activities that need to be investigated over a tragic sadomasochism gone wrong."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in alarm. "So in essence, she was asking for it." She shook her head in astonishment. "Where is the world coming to?"

"You ladies are so sensitive," snapped Peter. "No one forced her to sell herself. If she had cleaned up her life and picked a lifestyle that was less risky and self sustaining, she wouldn't have been in the situation that got her killed. Besides, who's to say that Crouch wasn't wrong in his assumptions? Maybe they got into the act, played too deeply into the fantasy, and they got carried away. When she died, the bloke probably freaked out and ran away. Why else would the body be covered with a blanket? It was a sign of remorse."

Hermione had missed that fact. "Really? That would be strange to see such softness after such brutality." Pursing her lips, she reread the article, catching the date of the crime. _Two weeks ago…_ "Oh goodness," she whispered to herself.

Hermione knew it wasn't how the paper described. It wasn't some rough sex fantasy gone wrong. She didn't have direct proof, but she would bet all the galleons in the world that the dead woman was the one involved that weekend Severus left school. And from his word, it was no accident. It was murder.

It took all of Hermione's strength to not rush over to the Slytherin table and strangle Severus. She tuned out the rest of Peter and Alice's argumentative debate, the blood pounding in her ears. He had a lot of explaining to do. But confrontation would not do. Severus would immediately go on the defensive and she would go nowhere with him. She would have to handle this delicately and as discretely as possible. Hermione figured potions class would be the best time to approach him. All the students would be engrossed in their work they wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

When the class was in full swing, Hermione pulled the article from her bag and folded it neatly into a small square. She slipped out of her chair quietly, heading toward the spigot which was near Severus's work station. He didn't notice her approaching, but he definitely felt the folded article being slid under his hand that was resting on the table top.

"Read it," Hermione mouthed silently at Severus while he shot her a reproachful glare. She quickly preoccupied herself at the sink, hearings the piece of paper quietly unfold, and she stole a look at him as he read the contents. Hermione continued to hover around the sink and was rewarded with another dubious glare from the Slytherin as he incinerated the article with a flick of his wand.

Severus stood up abruptly and headed for the supplies closet. Hermione knew he would be angry if she followed suit, but she didn't know if she would ever get such an opportunity again. As soon as Hermione stepped into the small closet, Severus cast a Muffliato charm, an exasperated expression painted his face.

"I don't know what you are trying to prove by showing me that article," he said stoically. "I've already seen it."

"I just want to get to the bottom of the whole ordeal," she replied.

"What makes you think I would know anything about this?"

Silence permeated the closet as Hermione felt a lump rise in her throat. "Because you were there, Sev."

She saw his jaw clench. "You can't prove it."

"I don't have to! It all makes sense. That's where you went when you left that weekend. The authorities found the body only yesterday. Why didn't you report it? That would have been -"

"The right thing to do," he said in a mocking tone, "and it would mean turning myself and my friend in. Honestly, Hermione, how stupid do you think I am?"

"This isn't some trivial occurrence. You killed her. Someone has to pay!"

"I didn't touch her!" he yelled back. "And for your information, the woman was nothing but a filthy muggle whore. No one is going to miss her, and the Ministry would be daft to waste their time and resources on anything of the sort, especially with the hefty donation the Malfoy family has given them."

Hermione's face went red with anger. "And the Ministry is accepting that bribe? That blood money?"

Severus shrugged his shoulders. "Wouldn't be the first time." He saw the aghast look on her face. "Oh come now, Granger. The Ministry is only out for their own gain. Money is power, and those who a lot of it will get preferential treatment."

"I didn't realize it could turn a blind eye to murder! How can justice be served if rich people can prance around with no regard to the rules, and buy their way out of the law?"

"There's no reason to be jealous."

"Jealous? JEALOUS? The Malfoy family is nothing but inbred lunatics who think that they are above general society and manipulate others to get their own way. I'd sooner eat dragon dung before associating with them!"

"Well, whether you like it or not, having them on your side is advantageous and one would be daft to not take advantage of the opportunity."

"Is that why you're friends with Lucius, Severus? Because you want to use him to maintain your innocence?"

Severus stood defensively. 'Lucius has been a good companion of mine since I started at Hogwarts. Same with his wife. I may not be as enthusiastic about our mutual beliefs, but that won't make me abandon him. If I ever am in a rut, I can always rely on him, so I won't betray him on a matter like this!" He tried to move past her in the small closet. "And I won't stand here listening to you ridicule my close friend like you know him on a personal level, so if you could excuse me…"

"Just answer one last question for me," Hermione said, placing a firm palm against his chest to stop him. "If it was me instead of the muggle, would you have stopped them?"

Severus looked at her seriously. "Of course I would have."

"But I'm not any different than that poor muggle. How could have you just stood by and watch her suffer? I bet if you hand the chance you wouldn't even try to change what happened."

"You aren't being fair, Hermione," Severus chided, a look of pain in his dark eyes. "I thought I had explained myself that night. Defensive tactics and alcohol do not mix. And for your information, it's because of me the girl didn't suffer."

"That's not possible! I read the article. She was brutalized, and –"

"Don't presume, and don't interrupt!" he admonished, much like his future self. "Once I realized what was going to happen to her, I numbed her with a non-verbal spell, and when it looked appropriate, I gently made her lose consciousness. It was humane, and she didn't feel a thing."

The look in his eyes convinced Hermione he was telling the truth. "I didn't realize such spells existed," she said quietly.

"I devised them," he responded. "Mainly for my mum."

Looking away, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, willing the confusion and the sadness to pass. She didn't understand how Severus could live his life constantly jumping from one end of the spectrum to the other. Surely, it was just as perplexing to him as it was to her.

"Isn't it exhausting?" she asked him sadly, not looking at him.

He furrowed his brows. "What is?"

Finally swallowing the lump in her throat, she found the courage to face him. "Switching your allegiances so often."

Hermione's words surprised Severus, catching him on unchartered waters. She saw his jaw clench once more, probably in frustration of his vulnerability and lack of words. The silence was heavy. A single tear slid down her cheek. She heard him sigh, assumingly because he found the words to throw back a retort or an excuse. But then, Severus was not given the opportunity to speak.

"Is everything alright in here?" a female voice asked.

Severus's eyes were drawn to the door. Hermione saw the color drain from his face. She turned around to see Lily Evans wave her wand to lower the charm. The two former friends made a quiet exchange, and with great enthusiasm, Severus stormed out of the small storage room without a word.

The two women stared at the open doorway, worry etched on their faces. Lily turned her attention back to Hermione, who was drying her eyes with her sleeve.

"What was that all about?' she asked.

Hermione shook he head. "It's nothing that you haven't faced with him before."

Lily sighed and sat down on a crate. "Hermione, I hate to say this, but as a person who has gone through this particular crossroads with the same man, maybe it's time you leave him behind."

"I can't do that," Hermione stated firmly.

"He won't learn from his mistakes unless you let him make those decisions."

"I know," she choked, "but Lily, he's not completely lost yet. He's so close, but just so…so stubborn!"

Lily chuckled. "Just like you, apparently."

Hermione sighed. "I wish there was some way to show him the consequences of his actions ahead of time. Or maybe to just not pick a side in this war." Hermione groaned. "Maybe I need to go back and convince myself not to care so much."

With that one statement, like lightening, something struck Hermione so soundly that she wondered why she had never though of it before. Perhaps the key to saving Severus wasn't Severus. Perhaps it was…_herself._

She stood up abruptly, adrenaline coursing her veins with her new found hope of salvation. "I have to find Professor Dumbledore."

Lily raised her brows in surprise. "You're turning Severus in?"

Hermione was already racing to the doorway. "Not in the least," she said quickly. "It's an idea, but it just might work."


	31. Take Time to Smell the Roses

_A/N: I've reread some of my past chapters, and I apologize now for the poor proofreading done on them. I guess I care about getting the story published rather than quality. Laziness. Such a tragedy. I'm sorry if it distracts you. Anyways, the house elf legend featured later in this chapter is something I whipped together. Don't ask me if it's true or not, because it's probably not. Also, I don't like the silhouette picture next to the story title. Any ideas of what I should put in its place? _

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**CHAPTER 31: TAKE TIME TO SMELL THE ROSES**_  
_

Despite classes being dismissed, the crowds of students didn't deter Hermione's sprint to the Headmaster's office. She was certain a few of them were knocked to the ground in her pursuit, completely ignored by the culprit.

Out of breath, Hermione reached the guarding gargoyles. But as soon as she had arrived, the excitement she had harbored in the past half hour suddenly transfigured into anxious trepidation. Her current plan meant she was all but foretelling the old wizard's future in one request, and he still had the power to decline it. That also didn't include the chance that he was too busy to see her.

All in all, Hermione was petrified, but this was her final chance of saving Severus. Taking a deep breath, she summoned all her Gryffindor courage…only then realizing she was clueless of the password.

"I need to speak with the Headmaster," she said to one of the gargoyles.

"No password, no entrance," it growled.

"For Merlin's sake, this is a matter of life and death!" She looked about the towering stone walls. "Professor Dumbledore, it's Hermione Granger!" she shouted at the solid barricade. "Please, sir! I'm desperate." She stood still, waiting for the entrance to appear, but nothing happened.

It was the final blow. Hermione turned around in defeat, letting the tears escape as she walked back dejectedly to the Common Room. True, she could return later, but she was slowly realizing that her time was slipping away like sand in an hourglass. Every second was precious.

A rumbling in the foundation made her stop in her tracks. "Hello there," a familiar voice called down the corridor.

Hermione quickly spun around. "Professor Dumbledore!" she said in relief.

"Miss Granger," he nodded. "Forgive me. I was brushing my teeth when you were trying to reach me." He paused, seeing the distressed look on her face. "My dear, have you been crying?"

Hermione wiped at her face, slightly ashamed. "It's nothing, sir. I'm a bit frantic right now and I was worried I wasn't going to have the chance to speak with you before I am forced to leave this decade."

"Nonsense, child. No need to worry. Help will always be given to those who ask for it." Dumbledore pulled out his pocket watch. "Ah, well. I was heading for dinner, but no matter. Come, Miss Granger. I'll have the house elves fix us up a treat."

Hermione followed him up the grand spiral steps to his study. She admired the space around her, noting not much of it had changed from what she recalled of the room in the future. The familiarity comforted her.

"Do you have a meal preference?" Dumbledore asked while extending his desk for more space to eat.

"I'll have whatever you are having," she said in reply.

"Excellent," the Headmaster replied, snapping his fingers. "Twinky!"

With a crack, an elf appeared next to the wizard. "Master Dumbledore need Twinky sire?"

"Yes. Would you please send up my usual request for me and Miss Granger?"

"Certainly, Headmaster sir, sire! Twinky will send up all of Master's favorite dishes!" the house elf squeaked in delight.

Hermione chuckled as the creature disappeared in a flash. "Would you believe that I once thought house elves suffered oppression in their line of work? In actuality, they love their job and it's what they live for."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Yes. Legend has it that house elves were descendants of garden gnomes, and centuries ago wizards and witches all over the world were trying to eradicate the species in its entirety. One brave wizard was moved with pity for the dying pests, so he decided to safeguard the more intelligent ones of the species in a small underground cellar. They were so overjoyed that they vowed to serve their savior for all eternity. Of course, that does not mean all wizards treat their house elf with respect."

Hermione shook her head, remembering Dobby and the way the Malfoys treated him. "That was what got me involved with the whole liberation front. My first experience with house elves was with one who was an exception and longed for freedom."

"And any enthusiastic teen would fight for the cause without hesitation. But that is the naïve approach. You have to get a vision of the whole situation, and that realization comes with age, experience, patience, and wisdom."

Hermione smile as he gestured for her to sit. "You seem to have those attributes in spades, sir."

He laughed jovially. "One hundred and thirty years, to be exact." Food appeared on the table. "Bon Appetit, Miss Granger."

Instead of the usual meat pies, vegetables, and warm sides, bowls of pudding and trays of cookies decorated the table top. "Professor, we can't eat dessert for dinner!"

The old wizard reached across for a chocolate gob. "My child, when you've lived as long as I have, you stop to embrace whatever time is left and enjoy what you have in front of you. And with my limited time, I choose to spend it eating sweets."

"Fair enough," Hermione said, pouring tea into two cups with a grin on her face. They ate their sweets in pleasant companionship, discussing academia and research, and some moments turning to the sombering subject of the rising war.

Dumbledore raised a napkin and neatly dabbed at the corner of his mouth. "Well, since we are on the subject of war and time, am I correct in assuming your stay with us is almost at an end?"

Hermione sighed melancholically. "Three weeks, give or take."

"Ah," Dumbledore replied, looking at her from over top of his half moon spectacles. "Have you felt you've accomplished what you needed to accomplish?"

Furrowing her brow, Hermione thought deeply about the question at hand. "Honestly, professor, I won't have a clue until I return home. But even so, I can barely remember what my original intentions were." She raised the teacup to her lips, hoping it made her appear nonchalant about the ordeal. Still, her hand shook. "I can say everything that has happened has been unpredictable and rather unexpected."

"Care to elaborate?" the old wizard asked politely.

Silently, she set the cup back into its saucer on the table and shook her head in astonishment. "I left my home and my friends, expecting to change history without changing myself and my beliefs. But…I don't even know who that woman is anymore. I lost track of my plans and I got to know the beautiful mind of a complicated man, and Merlin help me, I love him deeply."

"I suspected just as much." Awarded with an astonished look from the girl, Dumbledore smiled gently. "I've been keeping an eye on the both of you from the beginning, and it was a wonderful thing to witness, watching your relationship blossom." He paused, standing up with a plate of cookie crumbs and moved toward his phoenix's cage. "Although, from what I saw, it seemed you were enthused and enamored from day one."

Hermione knew the Headmaster was staring directly at her, probably trying to read her thoughts. She remained focused on the pleats of her skirt. "Are you insinuating that I cared for him before I arrived?"

"No, my dear. I am saying you already loved him."

Her head snapped up abruptly. "That's preposterous! I was engaged to another man!"

"So you were," he replied calmly, dusting off the crumbs into the bird's dish, "but that doesn't mean you didn't leave room in your heart for someone else, especially if you felt he was…unattainable…from the start."

"You have officially gone senile. Severus never gave me a reason to like him, let alone love him!"

Dumbledore raised his brow incredulously. "Really now, Miss Granger?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but no words could defend her stance. She rolled her eyes instead. "Alright, so he was tremendously brave and sacrificed more than anyone should for the Cause. And he was quite intelligent, and brilliant, and tended to have a clever yet twisted sense of humor, and his general nature automatically demanded respect and control. But that doesn't change the fact he still had a temper and was beyond unreasonable. He was a git!"

"And yet, here you stand, twenty years into his past, all to try and alter history for what I am assuming is for the future of a man you don't love."

The air hung heavily after Dumbledore's short pronouncement. Hermione looked away guiltily, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. "He was innocent, and I doubted him. I should never have, especially since you never doubted him in the future. That should have been enough reason to trust him."

"You are only human, Miss Granger. It must have been rather compelling evidence that made you feel betrayed."

Hermione swallowed nervously. "You don't even know the half of it." She closed her eyes and curled her hands into fists. "And the guilt eats away at me, knowing that maybe if I hadn't abandoned him, he would still be alive. I can't risk ever doubting him again."

Dumbledore did not respond with words, but walked slowly to her seat, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She stiffened, but relaxed immediately under his touch, giving her the courage to open the subject she originally planned.

"Sir, I need your help."

His hand left her shoulder. "I know, Miss Granger, but at what cost?"

Hermione groaned. "I don't know. I wish I did. I wish I could just fast forward time so that I don't have to wait and see the repercussions of my actions. But…this seems to be the only option I have left, and your answer is the first obstacle."

Dumbledore returned to his high back chair, sitting down and steepling his fingers in contemplation. "How do you plan on explaining to me your request without revealing time sensitive information?"

Hermione straightened in her chair. "By relaying to you obvious and conclusive facts."

"Such as?"

"You are over one hundred thirty years old. How much longer do you think you will live?" She saw his hand flinch at her brash question, and immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry for being so forward, sir, but the truth of the matter is that we all will face death in our own time."

The Headmaster sighed somberly. "Many of us do not have a time line, and you have all but awarded me a clear image of my life expectancy."

"I have not disclosed the date, time, or manner of your passing, so you are no worse for wear. Besides, you will rely on Severus for many dangerous and complex tasks. Surely you can help me spare his reputation."

"What is it you need me to do?" he asked rather stoically.

"I need you to reassure me that despite whatever Severus does, I have to trust him." Dumbledore's expression remained unchanged, but she pressed on desperately. "I don't care how you reach out to me. It can be in a letter, or a time capsule, or a dream. I just know that if you tell me the truth about Severus, I will believe it."

"Miss Granger, I am sure after you experience here you've learned that time is a dangerous thing to meddle with. It's not something you manipulate to achieve the results you desire."

"It's not for me. It's for Severus."

"It is not for Mr. Snape. It's to satiate the crushing guilt you have carried in your heart about his demise and nothing more!" He looked at her in undisguised bereavement. "I can only support your endeavors to a point. But when you start masking your personal goals as altruism, I am forced to expose the true colors of the ploy."

Hermione stared at the man in astonishment. The brutal honestly of his words twisted her stomach into knots, and she felt her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," she said standing up. "That is not the way I see the situation, but if that's how you feel—"

"I'm not finished yet," he cut her off, softening his gaze and tone in the process. "Why are you so steadfast in changing the events of the future? Time is a subject beyond reasonable comprehension. It's not something that can be altered in a blink of an eye. Certain things are meant to be, and we can't predict what those are."

Hermione's jaw clenched. "It wasn't long ago that you suggested going back in the past was a part of my destiny. Perhaps this falls into the same category."

"And if it is, it will work out by itself without your help or mine," Dumbledore said kindly. "Miss Granger, you are so engrossed in the past and the future that you are wasting the precious time given to your right now in the present, especially figuring your time is limited here. I heard an old muggle adage that says 'stop and smell the roses.' You'll regret it when it's over."

Hermione sighed knowing that everything the Headmaster had said had validity. But something still nagged her in the back of her mind. "Does this mean you aren't going to help me?"

Dumbledore smiled gently at her. "It means I cannot predict what I am going to do twenty years from now." He walked to the door, opening it to let her out. "Remember what I said, Miss Granger. No better way to live than for today. Everything else will fall into place the way it is supposed to be on its own accord."

Hermione quietly bade him goodnight and contemplated all he had said as she walked down the steps and into the empty corridor. The twilight setting sun made her feel melancholy. True, it was unfair of her to ask Dumbledore to help her, and as much as it pained her to admit it, she was motivated for all the reasons the wise wizard had said. The though of living without Severus for the rest of her life ate at her as badly as the guilt that replaced his memory.

She reached one of her favorite alcoves that looked out across the Black Lake and sat down on the stone ledge, exhaling with fatigue. She wished she could believe Dumbledore when he said things could work themselves out. Essentially, he had told her that if he was supposed to die that night, virtually nothing she did could prevent it from happening.

An approaching figure distracted her from her thoughts. From a distance, he was walking briskly, as if he was in a hurry to find something. He must not have seen her in the bay window, for he didn't pause until she recognized him and called his attention.

"Severus."

He froze immediately, but relaxed as he recognized her voice. "I was looking for you," he said, relief woven in his words.

"I was with the Headmaster," she replied, making room for him on the ledge, which he joined. The couple sat pensively, staring out of the window as the sun hid itself more and more behind the mountains in the distance. She heard him unfolding a piece of parchment, and only turned her head when she felt it graze the back of her hand as he held it out to her.

"What is this, Sev?" she asked curiously.

"The reason why I was looking for you. Read it."

Hermione obliged, her expression of curiosity transforming into surprise and delight. "Dear Mister Snape," she read out loud, "Thank you for you expressed interest in our prestigious Potions Mastery Program."

"The renowned competitive nature and rigorous academics of the post secondary education program is well known throughout the world, and each of our students is expected to succeed to the highest standards in the field of Alchemy and Potions."

"This year we received over 200 interested applicants, each qualified with various skills and achievements necessary to fulfill the duties of the difficult nature of our program. After careful review and consideration of applications, credentials, and references, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Durmstrang's Master of Potions and Alchemy Program."

"Please review the enclosed information regarding financial aid and assistance for those who qualify. Many scholarships are available by application, and well as alumni sponsorships. Please notify by owl no later than April 1st. Again congratulations on your achievements thus far and we look forward to hearing from you. Sincerely, Igor Karkaroff – Headmaster."

Hermione couldn't contain the glee on her face. "Oh Severus, I knew you could do it!"

"That's not the best part," he replied, not masking his joy. "Master Belby has offered to sponsor me while I'm at Durmstrang. All costs included!"

Her jaw dropped in amazement. "Wow, Severus. That is truly unbelievable. You deserve it. Congratulations!"

He shook his head, almost as if he still was in disbelief. "I had to reread it and make sure my name was on the letter. I really never believed I could be accepted. But I owe it all to you, Hermione. The actual idea of applying, the Wolfsbane project, and the fact you kept pushing me. I couldn't have done any of it without you."

Hermione looked away shyly. "Well, you are too brilliant to be doing something ordinary. I figured the title as 'youngest potions master in a century' suited you well." When Hermione met his gaze once more, she was taken aback by the raw expression on his face. She momentarily lost her train of thought, until he spoke to her.

"Thank you for not giving up on me; for always believing in me."

These short words meant more coming from him now than anything else she had heard before in her life. To Hermione, it wasn't just a simple 'thank you'. It was a secret calling; a plea of sorts to her future self, asking her to always trust him, to never doubt him, despite what was placed before her, even in regards to murder.

Words were lost to Hermione as she felt her throat constrict. Severus, taking her silence negatively, stood up and left the alcove, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment. Hermione didn't want him to leave in such a state. It had been weeks since he acted so kindly and unguarded, and she couldn't bear to undo that.

"Severus, wait!"

As he turned around, he was greeted by her fierce embrace as she collided into him, making him stagger backward a few steps to catch his balance while her arms flung around his neck.

"Hermione, what are you—" but Severus was cut off as she captured his mouth with her own in a passionate kiss.

She pulled away slowly, feeling his shoulders relax and his arms circle around her waist. A small smile was turning the corners of his mouth. "What was that for?" he asked huskily.

"Well, when I was with Dumbledore this evening, he said something that even you couldn't argue with."

"And that was?"

Hermione's eyes twinkled mischievously in the torch light. "He told me to take time to smell the roses." She chuckled at his confused expression. "Oh really, Severus. It means that I should cherish the time I have left and use it to my full advantage."

"The time you have left? Where are you going?" he asked softly.

The worried look in those brown eyes she adored pained her. "I don't know." Feeling him pull away, she gripped his shoulders a little harder. "Don't be like that, Sev. I'm here right now in your arms. We can't worry about tomorrow because we know it's coming. Let's just savor what we have together right now."

For a moment, Severus remained stubborn, but then he relaxed, returning back to their intimate embrace. Hermione smiled, feeling her heart flutter once more. He awarded her with an incredulous expression. "You realized all of that came from a crazy senile wizard?"

"Are you saying you're opposed?"

"No. I'm saying you are just as crazy as he is."

"Crazy for you, maybe."

"Haven't we been through this before?"

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, it seems vaguely familiar and redundant. So maybe you should shut up."

"And how do you suppose I do that?" he replied mischievously, already leaning in as she showed him how to shut up properly in the matter of kisses.


	32. Week Number Twenty

_A/N: I'M GETTING MARRIED! HUZZAH! _

_Ahem. _

_Short chapter, but it helps with the transition... Y'all do what you need to do. Thanks for all the adds and alert and reviews. :)_

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**CHAPTER 32: WEEK NUMBER TWENTY**

Everything was perfect.

Hermione couldn't describe it any other way. After that evening, when all the cards were laid on the table, Severus had finally let go of any reasons that kept his true feelings hidden. And it seemed like he refused to be ashamed that he was courting a Gryffindor.

It didn't mean he changed his overall disposition. No, Severus was still his cynical and, at time, cantankerous self. He did not display his affections outwardly or blatantly. But, it was the little things that changed the dynamics of their relationship. He would carry her belongings while escorting her to classes. Then, in the middle of conversations, he could reach over and tenderly burst a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. But what Hermione loved the most was the secretive and mischievous glimmer in his eyes, one that spoke louder than words could express.

Hermione's favorite time by far was when they would sneak off to their private labs. Sure, they would use the time for research, but many of the hours were devoted to experimentations that were completely unrelated to brewing. Ironically, it wasn't the lovemaking she cherished. It was afterward, when they would lie in each others arms, satiated and spent, that she wished the moments would last forever.

It was during these tender moments Severus would let his guard down completely. He had nothing to hide from Hermione because it was understood that every one of his flaws and imperfections were deeply loved by the girl.

The couple settled into a regular routine with ease. Each day flowed swiftly into the next amongst the whispered gossip of students and faculty. They joked about what they all said. Blackmail and coercion was one theory. Another was the effect of the Imperius Curse on Hermione. But not even this would shake the couple. Only they knew the truth of their relationship and why they were in it for the long run, and no one else needed to know. They loved each other and they held a special connection no one else could ever understand.

But there was a brief moment everyday before she would go to sleep that Hermione would be overwhelmed with a heavy feeling of trepidation. Her conscience would realize that with every sand that passed through the hourglass, it was one second closer to going back home.

Twenty weeks. Hermione remembered how she thought that was ample amounts of time to get her plan into action. But now, every precious second that ticked away was a countdown to her demise. What hurt her most was knowing that after she left Severus, she could never be completely happy again. She would never be free.

Severus began to notice her preoccupation. She was extremely quiet and he could see her mind wander off from the tasks they were completing. The distant, unfocused gaze disturbed him.

"Hermione, you realize you're adding the wormwood again, right?"

Snapping out of her reverie, she quickly stiffened and panicked. "What? Oh, goodness! I could have blown up the entire lab!" She began in haste to clean up the extra ingredient. "What is wrong with me? I'm never so careless!"

Severus could see tears filling her eyes as she rushed about in a manic state. He sighed, casting a quick stabilizing charm over the cauldrons. "Come on over here, Hermione. This can wait."

Hermione allowed a few tears to slip as she walked to the sofa and sat down. Comforting her, Severus pulled her into a tight embrace, rocking her as she finally began to sob freely.

"Hermione, tell me what's wrong. I'm sure I can help you."

She shook her head, nuzzling her face into the warmth of his chest. "I can't. Openly speaking about it means I am accepting it's real and it is going to happen, and I have no chance of stopping it."

"It will happen either way it seems, whether you admit it or not. Tell me. I want to help carry the burden."

The truth was, Hermione didn't know how to tell him. He still was unaware that she was from the future. How was she going to explain that she was about to vanish without a trace, but he'd find her again twelve years later, only to discover she was twenty some years younger than him? Severus presumed she was on the run from the law. But Hermione was desperate to talk to someone about it, and the sincerity and concern in his voice almost tempted her to open Pandora's Box, risking everything else to finally clean her conscience. No, she realized that was too extreme. The truth would destroy him. She had to lie, and lie quickly.

"I'm still a wanted felon, Sev," she said once her tears stopped flowing. "They are onto my trail. I have to get out of here as soon as I can."

"Is that what you're worried about?" he asked, a bit surprised. Severus probably expected something more severe. "Hermione, there's nothing to fear. The walls of this castle are virtually impenetrable. It's going to take a lot for the officials to break down the protective wards to get to you. And now you have me. I won't tolerate anyone who could take away your freedom. They don't stand a chance if they try to. You are safe as long as you're with me. I promise."

She shook her head. "No, Sev. You don't understand. The authorities know I am here, and any day now they will contact the school governors and will be allowed to burst through the gates with their cavalry of dementors in tow, and nothing will stop them until they find and arrest me. If I want to avoid Azkaban I have to get out of here and quickly before I'm trapped and they make me surrender."

A fire was burning in Severus's passionate gaze. "Well, I won't let them take you away from me."

Hermione smiled sadly back at him. "I know you mean well, but I don't think it's in your control." She settled back into his chest, dreading the look of pain she would see if she continued to face him.

"Well," he said after a few minutes of silence, "why don't you come to Durmstrang with me after graduation?"

Hermione sat up suddenly, completely surprised by his proposal. "What?"

Severus took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about it since I got the offer. You would be completely vulnerable once you left Hogwarts, and if you stay with me, not only would you be out of the country, you would also be protected by another fortress." He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "And you would have me to take care of you."

Hermione's heart swelled with joy but she knew it was impossible to accept. She would be long gone by summer, and she didn't want to give Severus false pretenses. "Severus, I couldn't possibly put you in that situation. If anyone would find out you're harboring a criminal, you could lose everything you've worked for."

"The way I see it, I'd lose everything if I lost you," he replied in complete sincerity. "Just think about it, will you?"

She leaned in and kissed him tenderly. "Of course I will." And she curled up next to him once more.

* * *

Anticipation rising, Hermione couldn't be joyful in the wonderful spring weather. It was days before the twenty week mark, and she didn't know what to expect. Would she fall asleep and wake up in 1999 just as she had been transported? Or would it be a painful, warping experience, one that would send her flying forward in time?

Hermione was tracking her health and vitals meticulously and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which made the already anxious Gryffindor more on edge. Shouldn't her body be recognizing the fading magic of the elixir as it signaled that the cycle was almost complete? Hermione repeatedly went over and over the memorized calculations, concluding that she hadn't mistaken the dosage needed for five months of work in the present year. Then again, she was the first human trial of the project, and all of the research was based on the mass and weight of a worthless lab rat. One small error in the algorithm between the two species could have easily distorted the conclusions.

When day three of week twenty passed by, Hermione's stomach sank. When the week finished, she felt she was on the edge of sanity.

And when week 21 rolled by with no sign of the elixir igniting her bloodstream, Hermione's worst fears were confirmed: she was never going to return home.


	33. A New Beginning

_A/N: A very blessed and happy 2013 to all of my readers. Cheers!_

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__**CHAPTER 33: A NEW BEGINNING**

_This is my home now. _The phrase was chanted repeatedly inside Hermione's head at every turn she made in the castle. Again, as she glanced at the headlines in the paper and magazines. But the realization opened her eyes. Days would continue to pass by despite her predicament, and there was no use of sitting on her hands. Life had to go on, and she had to plan accordingly.

She thought about the official nature of her status. Hermione technically did not exist in the eyes of the Ministry, nor the eyes of the British Parliament. How was she supposed to find a job after graduation without proper documents? She assumed Severus would know a person who could forge everything, but she had to speed the process up to be ready for the real world. She also didn't want Severus to ask too many questions.

That was another subject she had to address soon. Before realizing she was stuck in the 70's, Hermione planned that Severus would find out the truth when she arrived at a first year Hogwarts students 20 years later. But now, she knew the burden was on her shoulders. Maybe if she waited a little bit longer, Severus's love for her would grow so deep that the knowledge of the truth wouldn't change the way he felt. Or, at least she hoped it didn't.

The spring weather made the castle oppressive, so Hermione and Severus found themselves more often by the lake, basking in the sunshine and relishing in the cool breeze. Brewing wasn't as much of a priority for Severus as before, since he had already completed the applications for school. His time was devoted now to making necessary arrangements for Durmstrang, and then back to the preparations for N.E.W.T.S. The studying was a good distraction for Hermione, and she was grateful Severus didn't bring up his most recent proposal. Before, she could only say no because she was planning on her return. Now, she had no barriers to join him, and it frightened her.

Hermione hadn't made up her mind whether or not she was upset about not being transported home. True, she missed her technologically advanced comforts and, of course, Harry, Ron, and the rest of her loved ones. But as she pondered her options, it was possible that she would not have loved ones who would support her if she did return home. At least now she still maintained her freedom and Severus to support her. She realized she could easily adjust to life in the past.

One afternoon, she was sitting under their favorite birch tree. Severus was busy with work inside the Infirmary, leaving her alone with her personal thoughts. It was rather peaceful, until an unwelcome voice interrupted her musings.

"I found this next to Severus's belonging in the common room. Care to explain?"

Hermione was surprised to hear Reg openly speak to her in public. She was even more surprised when he sat down next to her, holding out a colorful rectangular tri-fold. She slowly took the pamphlet from him, eyes widening as she read the contents. She would have never suspected Severus to even contemplate such an idea. _"Precious Paragons by Bernard Idle,_" she read out loud,_ "Where the true magic shimmers in her eyes."_

Reg laughed at her reaction. "I was just as shocked as you, I promise. I thought the two of you were just shagging, but apparently it is much more serious than that if he's shopping for rings."

Hermione continued to stare at the tri-fold in bewilderment. "This doesn't mean he's contemplating on getting me an engagement ring. It could be a simple necklace or a charm or…something."

"He hasn't circled the bracelets, Granger. Stop kidding yourself. Anyways, it doesn't matter. There's no way he can afford anything from there. That's a top notch jewelry retailer. Only the wealthiest shop there."

Hermione glared at him. "Do you really think I'm preoccupied with how the jewelry will look?"

Reg shrugged his shoulders. "I thought all women cared."

"This is why you are still single." She handed the pamphlet back to him. "Now, if you don't mind, I think you should return this to its rightful owner."

"No no no. Keep it. Read the lovely little notes on the ones he liked." Reg started to laugh jovially. "Wow, I would have never suspected Severus to become a schmuck."

"Proposing marriage doesn't make you a schmuck! He loves me, and he wants to spend the rest of his life with me!" As the words escaped her lips, she fell silent, the seriousness of the situation opening her eyes. "Oh…wow. Severus wants to spend the rest of his life with _me._"

A prolonged silence permeated the air as Hermione relished in her discovery. Visions of her future with Severus flashed through mind. Cold nights curled up by a fire next to him. Hot, summer days outside, a little boy and girl with raven curls running up ahead of them. The two of them in their elderly years, sitting side by side quietly reading and exchanging loving glances. Her heart clearly was a fan of the idea, for it fluttered happily in her chest.

"You know, with you being a Prewett, the Dark Lord will probably approve of the union."

Hermione straightened up immediately. "It's not his to approve."

"Come off it, Granger. You aren't stupid. Everything Severus does involves the Dark Lord. That was an understood agreement the night he took the Mark. It's what we all swear to do. He promised to restore magic to its rightful stance if we strived to dedicate our efforts to the cause."

"Do you know how terrible that sounds? Full allegiance? You are nothing but a glorified slave!"

"We are not. We are his soldiers."

"No you aren't. Not if you can't make decisions about your life without his permission. If Severus wants to marry me, if he wants to go to Durmstrang to get his Masters in Potions, then that's his prerogative. What Voldemort is doing is controlling you and using you as disposable pawns in his chess game. It doesn't matter if you live or die as long as he continues to gain power."

Something akin to fear flashed in his eyes, but was quickly masked. "He wouldn't abandon us like that."

"He would turn his head at the first chance he could if it made it easier for him. And what's worse is that he doesn't want to get his hands dirty. He won't kill you himself. You're not that important for him to personally eradicate you. He'll get your so-called friends, or his pet snake to end your miserable existence. Voldemort is a sick twisted psychopath who doesn't care about anything but conquering death."

Regulus stood up abruptly. "I will not sit here and listen to your insultful tirades. The man is brilliant and has the capacity to lead this world into a new era. When he comes to power, it will be folks like you who will be at his mercy, begging for salvation."

Hermione refused to look at him. "One day, you'll see that I am right when I speak about his vengeful corrupt nature. It will take the darkest of magic to open your eyes, but it will hit you so hard you'll think twice about everything you've believed in and more."

Regulus glared at her, his jaw clenched in frustration, but he kept his words stifled as he stomped away. Hermione sighed and relaxed her shoulders. The ignorance of humanity disturbed her, but the initial shock and annoyance was beginning to wear off. She focused on the happy revelation. Severus Snape wanted her to be his wife. It would make sense in any way you viewed the situation. Severus wanted her to join him at Durmstrang. What better way to arrive at the fortress than as husband and wife? Marriage wasn't something treated in haste after all, and once the elite saw the commitment he made to Hermione, they would have no choice but to treat him with serious respect. But most importantly, she knew he wanted to marry her because he loved her.

The breeze blew softly through the trees, and Hermione smiled, taking a deep breath and relishing the sweet scent of spring air. Yes, Severus loved her. Maybe not going back would not be such a bad thing.

The weather continued to cooperate. Many of the professors said this had to be the warmest spring on record. By the end of April, many of the flowers were in full bloom. Severus and Hermione found themselves not by the lake, but in one of the open courtyards. Some of the students decided to transfigure outdoor furniture to take full advantage of the beauty without falling behind in their studies.

The couple was settled comfortably under a glass table sheltered with an umbrella, both of them studying rigorously. "Hermione, do you have a spare quill."

"In my bag, Sev."

Severus reached for her satchel and unlatched the buckle, digging through the objects in search of another writing implement. It was then that he found the jeweler's tri-fold. Hermione, realizing that the sound of rummaging stopped, looked up and saw Severus's face turn white.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, trying to hide the trepidation in he voice.

Knowing there wasn't an easy way out, Hermione sighed and set down her quill. "Well, actually Reg found it and gave it to me."

Severus's cheeks turned red. He opened his mouth to reply, but instead lowered his head and began to read in earnest. Hermione, not wanting to push him, shook her head and returned to her studies, a bit dismayed about his reluctance to speak about the situation. But a few minutes later, her heart skipped a beat at his next question.

"So, what do you think about the pamphlet?"

_Deep breath, Hermione._ "I've heard of them. Their work is quite beautiful."

"That's not what I meant. How would you feel about receiving one, particularly a ring?"

"Does it involve a promise?"

"One would hope so, yes."

Hermione looked up from her work to see him staring at her intensely. "It would depend on who gave it to me."

Severus's eyes were ablaze. He hid his nervousness well. Hermione could barely make out the slight tremor in his hands. He swallowed thickly. "Well, what if it was me?"

Even though she had been anticipating the proposal, she still felt her heart leap for joy. "Are you asking me officially, or just out of curiosity?"

Severus stood up and held out a hand towards her. "Come with me for a moment." Hermione accepted, smiling gently as they made their way back inside the castle. They walked in absolute silence and he guided her up flights of stairs and down the long corridors. She wasn't sure where he was leading her until they reached the steps of the Astronomy tower. Standing at the foot of the stairs, Severus gently squeezed her hand. "After you," he said gently.

The sun was beginning to set as they reached the top of the tower. The orange sky was flawless, depicting serenity and blazed warmly over the lake. Hermione and Severus stood side by side, drinking in the view. Strangely enough, a few pangs burdened Hermione despite the beauty around her. She couldn't help but remember the tragic scenes she witnessed from this very tower, and scenes she was grateful to avoid.

Severus shuffled next to her, reaching into the pocket of his trousers and pulling out a small grew velvet box. He cleared his throat nervously. "As I was saying…"

"Aren't you going to get down on one knee?" Hermione teased gently.

The tension left his shoulders at her small joke, and his eyes glittered as he did what she asked. He opened the box and revealed a modest yet beautiful claddagh setting. Where the crowned heart sat was a dual colored gem; one half green, the other red.

"I know it's not much," Severus stammered, "but I promised that after we're married and I'm done with my Masters, I'll replace it with something that you deserve, and – "

"Oh hush, Severus. It's absolutely perfect."

Severus fell silent, obviously surprised by her reaction. "You mean you like it?"

"I love it. Besides, it's not the ring that concerns me. It's your intent. And I'm not sure what that is, since you haven't asked me anything yet."

Severus looked up at her from his knee. "Are you purposely being difficult?"

Hermione smirked. "Well, that wasn't the question I was expecting, but I'll answer it anyways. Yes, would you expect anything less from me?"

Severus chuckled and shook his head, smiling back at her softly. "Fine, I'll do this properly." His eyes softened, and with his free hand, he reached for Hermione's left. "Hermione, for weeks now, I've been planning my immediate future. And I realized I can't envision another moment in my life without you next to me. If you can find it in your heart to put up with my cynicism for the next hundred years or so, I was wondering whether you could make those dreams a reality and be my wife."

Hermione raised her brow. "Even when you propose marriage, it has to be about you, doesn't it?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Of course it is."

Severus rewarded her response with a rare genuine smile. He stood up and kissed her gently. "I think this belongs to you now," he said as he slipped the ring on her left hand.

She admired the ring lovingly, tears of happiness threatening to escape her brown eyes. "Severus Snape. A married man. Who would have thought?"

He rolled his eyes. "I could say the same for you. Hermione Granger, married."

"The future Mrs. Hermione Snape."

"You really are planning on taking my surname?" he said, a distasteful look on his face.

"What, you plan on taking mine, Severus Granger?"

"Well, it has a better ring to it than Snape!"

Hermione's eyes softened and she smiled gently at him. "You are going to be my husband, and I will carry your name proudly because I love you dearly." At her admission, she saw fear and awe flicker through his eyes, as if he couldn't believe she could feel that way about him. He tried to reply, but could not find the words, so he leaned forward and brought her mouth to his once more.

They kissed passionately. When oxygen was lacking, they pulled apart. Severus rested his forehead against Hermione's, sighing serenely. "Gods, Hermione. I love you too."


	34. The Whole Truth

_A/N: I'm excited to say that I will be writing a new story soon, one that I'd like to say is a parallel universe to this one. Originally I had not intended to separate out the flashback/alterations of memories from the main skeleton of the synopsis, but I think it will keep things organized. Right now, I'm jotting the outline and I hope to soon start getting it written so I can post it when the time comes. That doesn't mean TTE will be abandoned. It will take a while to get the story 100% completed, aka tying loose ends from Hermione's experiment, but you'll enjoy **The Altered Years** just as much as **The Time Turning Elixir. **Or, at least I hope you will. Happy reading, everyone, and thank you again for your support and encouragement!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 34: THE WHOLE TRUTH**

Hermione learned a lot the next few days after the engagement. Firstly, the ring Severus gave her was originally his mother's. Apparently, Eileen Prince was engaged to an Irish half blood during her time at Hogwarts. Distraught by the news, her family forbade her to see him again, and the engagement was broken. To get back at her family, Eileen ran away to London and shacked up with the first muggle that took interest in her, which just happened to be Tobias Snape. They were married shortly thereafter, and when the marriage went south, she began wearing the ring once more, reminding her that happiness was a distant memory, but that it truly existed at one point in her life.

Severus had written his mother about his acceptance to Durmstrang. Despite their volatile relationship, Eileen knew him better than anyone. So, at the mention of possibly having a young woman accompany him to the fortress in the fall, she had sent him the ring with her response without anymore prying into the situation or explanation as to why she sent it. She knew her son would not rush into anything without careful scrutiny. Giving him the precious keepsake was the equivalent of her blessing.

Hermione also learned that being the future Mrs. Snape had its perks. Many of the girls that were also engaged entertained her with their own wedding plans. Of course, Hermione and Severus decided against an elaborate ceremony. A small private exchange of vows with the presider and a few witnesses is what they wished.

Her future title also made an impact on the Slytherins, who suddenly became extremely hospitable with her overnight, albeit it grudgingly so. She could see the utter distaste and contempt in their eyes as they would watch her and Severus, but neither one of them could do anything about it, unless they wished to face the wrath of their housemate.

And finally, the whole experience showed her who her true friends were. Unfortunately, many of her colleagues did not support her decision or take joy at the news. Mary McDonald, for instance, stopped speaking to her all together. Sirius and James were amiable enough. However, they would have an expression on their face as if they ate something sour.

Hermione couldn't interpret Lily's reaction. She didn't behave as if she was disgusted at the news. But it was reserved, like it was only a good mark on an exam. One day, Hermione approached the subject, knowing she didn't have much to lose.

"You aren't happy for me and Severus, are you Lily?"

Lily looked up quite astonished. "What are you talking about? Of course I'm happy for you."

Still, Hermione could sense a bit of terseness in her response. "You have a right to admonish me. The engagement was a bit of surprise on our part. I wouldn't blame you for judging me."

Lily frowned. "Oh, Hermione – it's not that. Trust me. It's just…well…you can't help but wonder what the situation would look like things between me and Severus hadn't shattered."

"You mean, you wonder if you would be the one engaged to Severus instead of me."

A guilty look crossed her face. "Is that a terrible thing for me to wonder?"

"I think it means you still have some loose ends with Severus that need to be tied. And, perhaps it's a bit rash of me to mention, but you should probably take care of them before you marry James this summer."

Lily sighed, running a hand through her auburn locks. "No, no, you're not being rash. Actually, you're right. I've put it off long enough, haven't I?" A worried look crossed her face. "Do you think he'll listen to me?"

Hermione smiled supportively. "Yes, I think he will. In fact, I believe the only reason he hasn't spoken to you yet is because he feels the same about the situation as you do."

"Could you talk to him about meeting me?" she asked nervously.

At Lily's question, Hermione suddenly felt a wave of insecurities crash upon her. Lily wasn't some girl that had a fall out with Severus. She was his first love. If things were reconciled between the two of them, there was a chance the feelings he used to feel for her would return in full force, and then he would break off their engagement. But if Hermione didn't let go of her insecurities, then she truly didn't trust Severus's intentions. She knew he loved her. There could be no room for doubt.

Hermione studied her red headed friend and sighed, nodding slowly and replying, "Of course."

* * *

Severus cursed inwardly as he realized he was restlessly toying with his half empty glass. A million things were running through his mind, particularly how he managed to surrender to his fiancée's request of meeting Lily.

He had no reason to be so nervous. He and Lily ended things a long time ago with no looking back, at least on her part. Then again, Hermione told him the girl was being tortured with the 'what-if' factor. In a way, this made him feel smug. It made him want to prolong her internal suffering. He sighed, throwing back the rest of his liquor and feeling it burn down his throat. Truth be told, he was uncertain of how he would react interacting with Lily on a civil note. Would he be able to give her the cold shoulder like he wished he could? Or would it be a tranquil visit, easily settling into the conversation and atmosphere they used to share, and he would once again become helpless to her whims?

The bell of the pub jingled as he motioned for the bartender to refill his glass. After sensing eyes on his back, he knew she had arrived, but he refused to acknowledge her presence first. That would only give her the upper hand. The empty stool next to his was pulled, scraping the hardwood floor underneath. Yes, it was Lily. Severus would forever recognize her sweet fragrance. It hadn't changed at all.

"I see you have already started. Should I try to catch up?" Lily asked as a greeting while sitting down. Severus only grunted in response.

The bartender took her drink order and left, a heavy silence hanging between the estranged couple. Severus was sitting stiff as ever, his shoulders slumped forward as his hair hung around his face like a curtain, shielding him from Lily's permeating gaze. She sighed, understanding he was going to make this a difficult as possible. "I really do appreciate you meeting with me, Severus."

"I'm only doing this for Hermione," he replied coldly, taking another generous drink from his glass. "Say what you need to say, and be done with it."

"I do deserve some resentment, Severus. But don't behave so disdainfully towards me. It's been so long, after all."

Severus scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Resentment, bitterness, and disrespect all fall into the same category for me, Evans. You know that."

"Yes, I do. I suppose I'm just not used to being on the receiving end of that temperament," she responded somberly.

Severus's inhibitions were loosened from the alcohol, so his will to not look at her shattered at the sound of her dejected voice. It was strange how things had barely changed as he studied her. Years ago, if any sign of sadness were in those green eyes he cherished, he would have done anything to make them shine. Now, the same helpless sensation rooted him in his seat, demanding him to make things right.

"What is it that you need from me, Lily?" he asked rather gently.

Surprised by the sudden change in his mood, Lily made eye contact with him. "I want to set things right between us. I hate the idea of leaving Hogwarts and keeping in touch with friends, like Hermione, without the notion of speaking with or having a relationship with…with the people she loves. Like you."

"Oh, I'm sure Potter is thrilled with the notion," Severus said sarcastically.

Lily shot him a warning glare. "It's not his decision to make, Severus. Besides, you've changed."

"Excuse me?" he asked incredulously.

"You have. You don't pick fights every chance you get. You have set plans in motion for your future that doesn't involved frivolous rivalries. And look, you are in love with a woman who loves you in return." She sighed, courageously placing a hand over Severus's. "I'm not asking to pick up where we left off. I just want you to be civil with me. I want to be able to look at you without being ignored, or feel like you want to curse me."

I could never curse you," Severus replied accidentally.

Lily looked at him, not being able to hide the tears brimming in her eyes. "Did you ever love me at all, Severus?"

His eyebrows almost reached his hairline. "You mean it wasn't obvious?"

Lily shrugged her shoulders. "Well, the idea had crossed my mind at numerous points in our friendship. But I'd convince myself otherwise, especially when you started hanging out with your Slytherin friends more than me."

"You mean when you assumed I was beginning to dabble with Dark Magic."

Lily blushed. "Well, yes. That's what I meant. But Severus, could you blame me for doubting your feelings? You knew how I felt about Dark Magic, and still you'd practice and experiment with it behind my back, like my opinion didn't matter."

"This is something you'll never understand," he said strongly. "A lot of my motivation was from you. You are a muggleborn witch, Lily. A part of me hoped that if I gained enough power, I would be able to protect you from harm when the war broke out. And I can see that things are escalating just as I predicted. If we win this war, I don't see how you could be out of harms way."

Lily didn't immediately respond, but sat stiffly on her barstool, playing with the straw in her glass. "So, you still think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will win the war?"

Severus studied her seriously before replying, "Yes. Yes I do."

Lily shook her head in disbelief. "Does Hermione know your views?"

He nodded, finishing off his drink. "She does, and yet, she hasn't left me. She's accepting it. Perhaps she wishes me to change my mind, but that is unlikely. I think she knows that as I had planned on protecting you, the same vow I have placed on myself for her."

Lily looked sheepishly into her lap. "Lucky her," she choked out.

Severus sighed, recognizing the lost frustration in her voice. "What do you want me to say, Lily? It seems like no matter what I say or do, it will never be good enough for you. Couldn't it be possible that I could love you and still have beliefs that oppose yours? Hermione seems to feel that way."

"Even if I did think that was possible, I'd be constantly filled with dread, wondering if you were injured or dead or in prison. I couldn't live like that, Sev. I wanted you safe. I – I loved you very much."

"You didn't love me, Lily. If you did, you wouldn't have abandoned me."

"I made excuses for you for _years._ I had to draw the line at some point, and it was when you saw me as a mudblood!"

"I said I was sorry!"

"I know you did, but it hurt. A lot. It still does to this day. Mainly because we had something so unique and beautiful, and it was tainted by your words. I'm not strong like you, Sev. It would have killed me slowly like poison if I stayed."

Severus shook his head. "You've got it all wrong."

Lily looked even more hurt at his reply. "Oh? How so?"

Severus turned in his seat to face her, lowering his guard in her presence for the first time in years. "You say I'm strong. Lily, if I had half the strength you do…" his voice cracked, making him unable to finish his thought.

"We both were strong and weak in our own ways incompatibly. We were bound to crash and burn eventually."

Severus chuckled somberly. "I should have told you I loved you then. Maybe things would be different."

Lily stifled a sob. "Of course they would be. But look at all we've done since we parted. You sure are headed down a road to superiority. It's more than I can say for myself."

He shrugged, brushing the compliment off and motioned for a few more drinks. "Hey, you'll be busy with your war correspondence. Gryffindor bravery at it finest."

"I'll just be the fuel to the fire," she remarked grabbing the new drink placed in front of her.

"No matter," Severus issued, "we both will turn out alright." He studied his drink for a moment. "What shall we toast to?"

Lily lifted her glass, meeting his dark gaze. "Let's drink to the outcome of the war. Whatever happens, if it's your side or mine, may justice and truth prevail for all."

A corner of Severus's mouth upturned. "I can drink to that," he said softly, clinking glasses with her.

* * *

Sitting at one of the tables in the library, Hermione buried herself in her books, hoping it would distract her enough to forget that her fiancée was currently meeting the woman who had stolen his heart before she had. Of course, her mind was far from capable on concentrating on Ancient Runes. All she could wonder about was whether she would still be engaged by the end of the day.

That would be the last thing she needed. To lose her anchor while she continued her life in the 1970s, having no one to confide in and possibly changing the identity of her best friend's father. Hermione groaned, slamming her quill on the table and resting her head dejectedly in her free hand. Why hadn't she thought of that before?

But now was not the time to panic, for she heard slow footsteps approaching the table from behind. Hermione remained fixed in her seat, fearing what she could see if it was Severus. But the intruder did not speak. They simply placed two gentle hands on her shoulders. Hermione took a deep breath, recognizing the distinct sandalwood scent of her fiancée and involuntarily relaxed under his touch.

"You're back rather early," she observed, still not turning around.

Severus squeezed her shoulders gently, and then took the vacant seat next to her. "Not really. We had a few drinks and left." He noticed that Hermione was avoiding eye contact. "Is there something wrong?"

She automatically shook her head. "Of course not," she forced out. "So, have you and Lily settled your differences?"

"I suppose it's safe to say we won't harm each other or harbor any ill feelings when we see each other in public. Can't say the same for her husband. But that will come with time." He cocked his head to the side, studying her intently. "Are you sure there is nothing the matter?"

"Yes," she snapped coldly.

"Look at me, Hermione."

For a moment, she considered standing up and leaving with no looking back. But his commanding tone was too much like her future professor. When their eyes met, Hermione almost cried out in relief. Even though he didn't say a word, she knew he wasn't going anywhere. A single tear escaped her eye as she tried to hide her emotions. Severus chuckled, bringing a hand to her cheek and brushing the droplet away with his thumb.

"I'm quite insulted now, Miss Granger," he gently chastised. "You really thought I would leave you?"

"Can you blame my insecurities? You both loved each other dearly."

"You are no second choice or a substituted to me, Granger. You've seen the ugly side of me and still you decided to stay. That, in itself, makes you ten time the girl Lily Evans was for me. She couldn't handle the truth, but you can."

_The Truth about Severus_. Yes, she did know he was a faithful Death Eater. She knew he despised muggles, and that everything he did had a partial self centered motive. But that wasn't all of him. Severus was brilliant. He had focus, drive, perseverance and goals in his life. He was possessive, but in a way to keep her safe. And when he trusted someone, he trusted them in their entirety.

Her stomach churned guiltily as she smiled at him. Severus loved her, which meant he trusted her. Yet, she was keeping so much from him. She took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop racing. Hermione knew it was time to tell Severus the whole truth.

Casting a quick _muffilato,_ Hermione grabbed both of Severus's hands. "I have to be honest with you."

Severus stiffened and straightened his posture at her ominous introduction. "About what, exactly?" he said almost defensively.

"About everything. Things you wanted to know from the day you met me. My life before Hogwarts – my motivation – my past…"

To Hermione's amazement, Severus began to laugh. "Is that all? Merlin, Hermione, don't scare me like that."

But Severus –"

"Hush, Hermione. I've thought about this for a while now. Your past did not involve me at all, so in reason, I should have no right to it, especially if keeping it quiet will keep you safe. If you love me, still knowing the choices I made in my life, then I'll love you the save in return without question of detail or reason."

Hermione bit her lower lip, overwhelmed by the irony his words entailed. "Are you afraid that you wouldn't love me anymore if you knew the truth?"

"No," he said instantly, "but I'm afraid you'd convince yourself to leave me for some altruistic excuse. You guilt yourself rather easily."

"Only for you," she replied cheekily. "I really wish you would let me –"

"Please don't make me repeat myself. How about this; if a ghost of your past starts haunting our lives, you'll explain it then. Do we have a deal?"

Tears threatened to burst out of Hermione's eyes. "Deal."

A small smile crept in the corners of his mouth. "Let's seal it with a kiss to make it official, then."

Gently, they captured their lips in kiss that spoke so much more than words could fulfill. To Hermione, Severus said he would never leave her. To Severus, Hermione promised all faithfulness and loving him through his faults.

They pulled apart and smiled. Nothing more needed to be said.


	35. Motivation

_A/N: Oh hey, yeah I didn't disappear. _

* * *

__**CHAPTER 35: MOTIVATION**

_1999_

Even though it was getting close to the full moon, Harry was still concerned with Remus's strange behavior. He was extremely quiet, and the younger wizard could detect a sense of panic in the werewolf's usual serene eyes. For Remus to contact Harry in such haste troubled him, but his demeanor worried him further, which only meant the news was not good.

They met in The Leaky Cauldron. Remus was nervously fiddling with a stray bottle cap that was neglected at the bar table. Harry, sighed, finishing off his fire whisky, hoping the added alcohol would help him ease into the topic of the visit. "Remus, what is going on?"

He didn't respond immediately. "I had another flashback, and I am concerned with all that I saw."

Harry straightened up in his barstool. "What happened? Is Hermione okay?"

"It depends on how you view the situation."

"Remus, just tell me," Harry said, increasingly worried.

The werewolf seemed to be battling with his conscious, wanting to keep the information to herself. But it seemed like he wasn't going to win this one. He set down his drink and sighed. "I think…I think Snape and Hermione were…involved."

"In what way?"

Remus swallowed apprehensively. "Romantically. Harry, they were engaged."

"What?" Harry exclaimed loudly, but hushed at the strange looks from the other patrons. "But – but he – she – damn, are you serious?"

"Dead serious. I saw the ring, and apparently I was excited for them. They had plans to study at Durmstrang in the fall and also to be married before the end of summer."

Harry stared at Lupin in shock. "There's no way Hermione could plan an elaborate ceremony in that amount of time."

Remus shook his head and refilled her empty glass. "They didn't want something fancy and ornate. From what I understood, it was going to be a small and private exchange of vows with a witness or two."

There was something suspicious in the way Remus spoke, almost like he was keeping something from Harry. In fact, after his last statement, Remus was purposely avoiding looking directly at Harry. As he thought carefully about what he had said, he pieced the strange puzzle together. "Lupin, don't tell me they asked _you_ to be their witness."

"Hear me out, Harry. I was friends with both of them back then. And Ron wasn't born yet. Don't resent me for supporting their marriage."

Harry sighed. "I know, I know. But the fact of the matter is that Hermione knows better." He paused, dread filling him as he spoke the next question. "Did they end up married?"

Remus shook his head. "No, but then again, I haven't had any flashes from it yet. If it is any consolation, she seemed very happy. So did he."

Harry chuckled somberly. "I thought things were complicated before. This is the icing on the cake. Hermione's going to return here with a bloody husband and be jailed for life while I have to console the jilted ex-fiancée." His face fell. "Oh, bloody hell. How are we going to explain this to Ron?"

"He can never know," Lupin stated emphatically.

"The news will come out eventually. There's no way we can keep this from him forever."

"I know," he said sadly, "but like we said before, we don't know _if_ they got married. Maybe…maybe nothing will come from this. No reason to stress Ron out for something we _think_ might have happened. Please keep this strictly confidential, Harry. We have to see how everything is played out."

Harry clenched his jaw. "Remus, he's my best mate."

"If it's unavoidable, I promise you can tell him. But for now, let's see what falls into place."

"Fine," Harry said finally, "but if you discover they did end up married, you better not keep it from me. Ron deserves to know the truth, even if it might kill him. He still loves her, after all."

_1978_

Long fingers tapped musingly on the wooden top of the table, as a wizard weighed his options at the news presented before him. Of course, he wasn't some ordinary wizard. He was Lord Voldemort, the most powerful being to ever walk the planet. And everyone feared him, rightly so. But yet, despite his high level of power, he seemed to attract more imbeciles than intelligent followers. He couldn't complain, though. Imbeciles were easy to manipulate and control.

Take for example Goyle. His youth and strength were perfect when it came to the implication of enthusiastic force. Malfoy's finances kept their mission afloat with ease. Regulus Black was the perfect informant on the happenings at Hogwarts. But he was careless. He wouldn't cover his steps. He was sure others were suspicious of his activity. He lacked focus. Followers like him could ruin everything.

It was a shame that the indispensable, brilliant ones could think for themselves. Not like he needed them, though. They simply were a catalyst for his plans. A helpful shortcut, if the phrase could be used. But because these intelligent ones had brains, it was easier for them to betray him. Regulus was not one of these men. No, it was Severus Snape, who he was having tracked daily by Black.

Severus Snape was a formidable ally, even at eighteen. His intelligence rivaled his own when he was his age. The Dark Lord knew a lot of his recent success was because of Severus's diligent work. But he was still suspicious. Severus knew he was special. If enough disgruntled, useless people saw him as another option to power, he could potentially try to form some kind of…force. Of course, if Severus even considered this, he wouldn't stand a chance. No one lies to Lord Voldemort, and no one knows his true powers.

His decision would be easy if the thought of revolt even crossed Severus's mind.

Still, Voldemort understood that if Severus wasn't one hundred percent invested in the cause, his own rise to power would stagnate. He could not have that. There had to be a way to keep the young Slytherin fully involved until he was no longer needed.

Snape showed so much promise, except he was not an open book like the majority of the followers. Severus was keeping secrets. He had to hear from Regulus Black about Severus's wonderful news about his acceptance into Durmstrang. That could be beneficial. With Snape studying there, he could be the network key in the North and expand his power farther than he thought possible. But the question was why didn't Severus share the glorious news himself? Why did he have to hear it from a nosy busybody?

To make matters worse, the naive child went and got himself engaged! Regulus had owled him with the alarming news. This would not be good. This unknown woman was a dangerous distraction to Snape, and a threat to his loyalty. If she had shown some sort of enthusiasm like Bellatrix Lestrange, this would be a very beneficial arrangement, indeed. But Severus had not even tired to introduce her to the revolution. Something was amiss in that kind of behavior. Severus didn't trust him and that would not end well.

The Dark Lord has a few options when it came to Severus. One was positive motivation. However, that was not in his character. He felt rewards should only be given after worthy performances of deed and action, often time thought out and performed without request. Plus, Severus was not easily motivated by worldly physical possessions. Voldemort would have to divide power, and that was out of the question.

What about threats? Motivation by fear? He could explain to Severus he had noticed the carelessness in his manner, the vacant look in his eyes, and that if it didn't improve he would have to take matters into his owns hands by any means necessary.

That still didn't solve the problem of the girl. Severus was obviously trying to keep each lifestyle he lived mutually exclusive. That charade had to end. The girl had to go, or he at least had to figure out if Severus would dispose of her eventually.

Voldemort traced his mouth with a finger pensively. Threatening the girl might work. Or, he could take care of her directly with no hesitation. But a part of him didn't want to waste his time on an ordinary chit if the basis of her power was a simple distraction to Severus. It wasn't as if she was forming some sort of opposition like many other students were trying to create. She merely got involved with an intelligent wizard who had much bigger plans in life than buying a house with a white picket fence.

There was no room for romance during war. Too much was at stake. However, when he restored proper order in the world, Severus would be free to marry and sleep with whoever he pleased. In fact, Severus would be so powerful he would have thousands of women groveling at his feet. This chit on his mind would be a distant memory.

Excessive force was not needed immediately in this situation. Voldemort would present an ultimatum: cancel the engagement until further notice or he would cancel it for them. In layman's terms, the girl's life was at stake. Surely, if Severus cared for her, he'd do anything to keep her from harm, and that meant serving his true Master.

Yes, the Dark Lord was certain that should eliminate the pest problem. But just to be sure…

"Ah Regulus. You're here at last."

Reg stepped up slowly after shutting the door behind him. "You summoned me, my lord?"

Voldemort didn't respond immediately, but sat there, studying the younger man intently. "I need you to do something for me."

* * *

_A/N: Uh oh... _


	36. Parley

_A/N: What? Another transitional chapter? You are killing me Reyem! Hey, it can't always be about Severus and Hermione. I have to make this story a bit more dimensional or it's crap._

_Summer stuff is keeping me busy. I'm tweaking the wedding plans, and I got suckered into directing a musical this summer. It's my first shot at directing. I hate it. Well, I guess I don't hate it, but I started out excited, and then after auditions it just left a bitter taste in my mouth (theater drama - don't ask) that I can't seem to get out. Oh well. Another six weeks and I'll be home free, ready to start packing up for the big 500 mile move! _

_This story has over 300 reviews! While it's not much comparing to other well written works, I am so touched and honored that I've reached that point. You folks keep me writing, and I appreciate it so much. I think there might be four or five chapters left in this portion of the saga, but I'm working on another parallel fic that corresponds with what all Hermione has done. I hope all of you follow that one. I just want to let you know that nothing is going to be resolved at the end of this story. You'll have to wait until the other fic is done. Maybe that will be your motivation to follow? Hmm? I usually hate long a/n's, but I wanted to touch base with all of you. Thanks again, y'all!_

* * *

**CHAPTER 36: PARLEY**

There was something soothing about patrolling the quiet corridors of the castle at night. Severus could sense an ancient serenity built deep within the stone walls. He envisioned the thousands of students who past through the hallways over the centuries, and he couldn't help but feel a regal pride in sharing – in being a part of the rich history of the school.

Not many witches and wizards would pass through Hogwarts's gates and say they impacted the future of the world. Most would be completely ordinary. They would find ordinary jobs, live and ordinary life, breed more ordinary children, and die without leaving behind a huge legacy for the next generation. But Severus knew he wasn't going to be one of those wizards. He was on the road to becoming the youngest Potions Master in the whole continent – probably the world, and from there on out, he would have the rest of his life to change the way those ordinary witches and wizards lived their life.

Sometimes, Severus had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Everything was falling into place. Sure, it wasn't what he initially planned. He wasn't going into Mediwizardry, but a Masters in Potions was a hell of a Plan B. Once he completed the coursework and thesis, if the cause was so desired, he could easily go back to become a Healer. The laws were bound to change someday. But for now, it would do. He would have no debt since his education would be fully sponsored. He would be leaving Spinners End for good. And best of all, he had Hermione to share it with.

It was strange. Hermione made him feel he could accomplish anything on his own. He didn't need the government or riches to get him where he needed to go. But that's was what disturbed him the most. A lot of decisions he made before he met the girl was to appeal to those who could help him gain leverage and power, specifically the Death Eaters. He had made them promises that now he wasn't sure he wanted to keep. His new-found reluctance was a dangerous threat to his life, especially if the Dark Lord ever sensed it.

Severus sighed, the thoughts pressed heavily in his mind. Perhaps with him being out of the country, his participation in the Death Eater's…._battles_…could reflect the distance that separated him from Britain. That seemed plausible. He was under the impression that Mr. Karkaroff, which was a name that was spoken often at revels, was under similar circumstances. Maybe he could start a network of sorts in the North. Severus knew once the Dark Lord revolutionized Britain, he would begin the conquest throughout the rest of Europe.

A tinkle of broken glass alerted Severus he was no longer alone. Automatically, his hand unsheathed his wand and he stiffened, waiting for the intruder to arrive. However, as the unknown wizard immerged, stumbling and cursing, Severus was slightly shocked to see Sirius Black in such a state.

The Gryffindor slouched against the wall, squinting ahead to get Severus's identity. "Bloody hell. Of all people I had to run into…" he swore again loudly.

"Fancy seeing you too," was Severus's response, laced with equal bereavement. He gave him the once over, noting the disheveled appearance, bloodshot eyes, and the hind of a shadow across his jaw. "And, in such lavish estate, as well."

Sirius gestured rudely and tried to head back towards where he came from. "Piss off, Snape. I look better than you even in a drunken mess than you do at your best, you ugly, greasy git. Go wash your hair."

"Resorting to named insults? How little have you changed over the past seven years. You may be more physically appealing than me, but that will fade with time. I, on the other hand, am creating a legacy for myself. Can you say the same?" Severus expected an angry retort back in defense, or some snide comments about the Death Eaters. But Sirius threw a curve ball.

"No, I can't," he replied as he slid down the wall and collapsed on the floor into a helpless heap. He began laughing hysterically, almost coldly as Severus stood there frozen in shock. "How the tables have turned," the drunken Gryffindor commented, "that the pureblood wizard leaves Hogwarts with zero indication of a worthy future, and the half blood from the slums graduates with the whole world at his feet and a beautiful woman on his arm." He stared dejectedly at the ground. "I hate you for it."

Hesitantly, Severus walked toward him. "If you must know, all that didn't just fall into my lap. I worked for each and every one of my accomplishments. The only person you should hate is yourself."

"Who says I don't?" Sirius asked with hatred and bitterness in his slurred speech.

"Self loathing doesn't suit you."

"Seeing that you don't approve of it, I will loathe myself more, just to spite you." He pulled a flask from the inside of his robe and held it out as a mock toast. "To your future! May it shatter and leave you destitute."

"And likewise. Oh, I beg your pardon, you don't have a future."

Sirius snarled and took another drink. After a moment of heavy silence, he asked Severus an interesting question. "How did you manage living alone?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, ever since you fucked it up with Evans, you kind of became a loner. How did you manage it? Didn't it eat you from the inside out?"

Severus blinked twice, completely perplexed with the behavior of the troubled young man. Boldly, he joined Sirius on the cold floor. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't. I was in denial for two years, and it took an annoying twit of a witch to remind me that no man is an island."

"Surely you realize how lucky you are."

"Yes, and I know I don't deserve any of it. At all."

"Can't agree with you more," Sirius replied, handing the flask over to Severus. At the look the Slytherin gave him, the Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "I didn't poison it, Snape. You just saw me take a shot."

Severus snorted, but then accepted the flask. As he tipped it back, feeling the soothing burn of the liquor sliding down the back of his throat, a curious thought entered his mind. "So, why are you drinking alone?"

"I'm not alone anymore, as you can see," he replied slyly.

"Our differences aside, just humor me, Black."

Sirius exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Well, between Peter acting like a lump, Remus playing catch up and recovering from his transformations, and James planning his wedding, there isn't anyone to drink with."

"Fair enough," was Severus's reply as he took another drink. "Still, must be hard not being worshipped."

"It definitely is an adjustment," he joked snidely. "D'you realized I have no home to return to after graduation? My mother has all but written me out of the will, and that is looking like the case if my father snuffs it before she does."

"From what I hear, it's not much of a home to return to."

"Ha! You've been talking to Reg, have you? The twit got everything he ever wanted from mummy. Don't know why he would speak ill of her."

"And it's obvious that you _haven't _spoken to your brother," Severus said defensively, "for if you did, you'd understand that after you ran away, your mother focused her attacks on him."

"That's hard to believe," Sirius replied skeptically.

"Trust me. I was there over holiday. The woman was relentless. She was still ranting about his average O.W.L.S., saying he wouldn't be worth more than dirt under her shoe and a disgrace to the family if his N.E.W.T.S. were comparable. She even tried to throw me out of the house when she realized who my mother was. All for being half blood."

Sirius raised his eyebrows as Severus spoke. "Well, she has good reason to throw _you_ out of the house, but I am rather shocked she would say those things to Reg. He was always her favorite. Who does she cater to now?"

"Looks like the house elf. She wouldn't let him leave her side."

"Kreacher," Sirius snorted. "If mum could adopt him as a legal son, I'm sure she would. She loves that pitiful flobberworm more than me."

"Well…"

"You shut your mouth, Snape, before I sew your lips together permanently."

Severus released an amused snort. "I'll drink to that," he said, reaching for the flask. The two enemies sat in silence, the Slytherin observing the dejected Gryffindor curiously. "Would you believe me if I said I understood what you're going through in regards to your family?"

Sirius glared at him, but the usual loathing was not visible in his features. "I highly doubt that I would."

"My father is scum," Severus interjected. "He is lazy, a drunkard, and feels entitled to beat my mother and myself when he is the one that fucks things up by not holding down a proper job. Then, you have my mum, who in some ways is worse than him because she feels nothing anymore. The biggest difference between you and me is that you have a brother who understands and has experience how terrible it has been for you."

"And you had no one," Sirius said almost stoically.

Severus clenched his jaw and looked away. "If you don't count Evans."

Sirius sighed, resting his head against the wall. "Reg never gave a damn about me," he said through clenched teeth.

"You are his older brother. Don't be ridiculous."

"If he had to pick between his own personal endeavors or helping his brother, he would choose himself."

"That's the Slytherin in him. Personal determination. It's not a crime to try and make something of yourself."

"It is if you are doing something illegal!"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Because you and have never done anything illegal. I'm sure I don't even know the half of it." To his surprise, Sirius looked away guility. "You know, since we are on al roll of making you feel worthless, Black, may I remind you of something else to add to the lengthy list?"

"Will it stop you if I said to bugger off?" he replied and snatched away the flask.

"The first time I ever talked to your brother was in my second year. I, for one, automatically assumed he was just as spoiled rotten as you. Then, about eight or nine weeks into term, I found him crying alone in the Common Room. You know why?" Sirius didn't respond, so Severus continued his story. "He was upset because his big brother told him to sod off and slither back to his hold where he belonged. Normally, one would write this off as a plain argument between two brothers, but when it happens in the public eye in the middle of dinner, well, I guess it would leave a mark."

"The boy was smarter than me!" Sirius snapped. "I was a second year who couldn't turn a teacup into a mug, and my younger brother was showing me up by performing fourth year magic in front of me!"

"For Merlin's sake, Black, he was excited and wanted to share it with you! There was no personal vendetta. It was your own jealousy and insecurity lashing out, and you never tried to make amends for it."

The silence hung heavily in the air. Severus couldn't tell which direction Sirius was going to go after his long diatribe. But all of it was true. Sirius and Regulus never could get back on the right foot after that night, only because Gryffindor pride got in the way. And that made Reg more motivated to supersede Sirius at everything, even if it meant getting involved in Dark activities.

"I'm a jealous, hot headed, selfish, and arrogant prick," Sirius spoke out, barely audible and almost incoherent with the effects from the alcohol. "It's my fault my little brother hates me. Gods, and it took _you_, of all people, to make me realize it."

Severus snorted. "Well, I've only told you a million times. It was bound to sink into your think skull eventually."

"Do you think I am too late to fix things?" he asked somberly.

"For us, damn right it is too late. For Reg…" his voice faded, seriously contemplating the situation. "You might still have time. I know he has a lot on his mind. Personally, the bloke will not leave me alone. I think that should be the role reserved for a brother."

Sirius staggered to his feet. "Strangely enough, I agree with you."

Severus saw something in his enemy's eyes that he couldn't recognize. Behind the glazed, bloodshot shadows of alcohol, it was almost as if the Gryffindor was staring at him with a new…perspective. Oh yes, the usual hard coldness, the grudged indifference was still there. But the undiluted loathing and hatred was kept at bay. There was something keeping that back. Severus swore it was something of a respectful acknowledgment as equals.

The Slytherin followed suit, getting up on his feet and dusted off his robes. He nodded toward the Gryffindor politely. "Then you should go help your brother."

Not another word was spoken between the two enemies. Sirius and Severus went off in opposite directions. Both understood that as morning crept into the castle, the usual animosity and bitter loathing would return in full, despite their brief parley. But even though civility would never be restored between them, a door had opened for two brothers. Perhaps this chance meeting was the catalyst to reunite a family who was torn in the midst of a brimming war.

Who would have thought it would have taken a nemesis to start it?


	37. The Ruse

_A/N: Hi...remember me? The delay was uncalled for, but I feel I'm finally settled in. Since the last time I updated, I moved 500 miles, got married, did some part time work, celebrated holidays with family across the country, found a real job as a school teacher, and had a million lesson plans to work on. I set some time aside today to work on this. I missed it. You can thank Pottermore for giving me the bug. :P Anyways, I hope I can keep up with this along with real life. And, for those people who are now first tuning in, welcome! I hope you've come here for the long ride. :) Let me know what you think._

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**CHAPTER 37: THE RUSE**

To say Hermione was shocked at the story her fiancée told her about his run in with Sirius would have been an understatement. But from there on out, she could sense the change in the men's relationship. Usually, one would freely attack the other. But now, an invisible barrier sparked between them. She knew Severus still had the desire to destroy Sirius, but their 'treaty' of sorts finally restored the peace that was desperately needed over the past seven years.

The face that Severus was the one to awaken Sirius about the status of his relationship with Regulus warmed Hermione's heart. The one thing Hermione had always wanted from her own family was a sibling, but her parents could not have granted her such a request. To have Reg and Sirius on good terms again was an accomplishment one wouldn't have dreamed about a week ago. Still, something about Reg's behavior, even without the added stress of a broken family, made her feel like she was being secluded from the truth. Severus acted like he knew something about him that she did not.

Hermione knew Severus's motivation to patch things up between the Black brothers had nothing to do with Sirius's happiness. Severus looked out for Reg. Something about the younger Slytherin must have worried him enough to have the two brothers reconcile. Desperate measures like that could only mean a life was spiraling out of control. If Regulus was that far in, she dreaded to know how deep Severus's involvement was.

Nevertheless, it was a wonderful relief to not have to break up fights in the corridor. And to add to the beauty of it all, even Reg was amicable. In fact, Hermione found herself enjoying his company more and more. If Severus had to run off somewhere, Reg would offer to keep her company, and for once, no awkwardness ensued. He had a very similar disposition like his older brother. There were times that when Sirius came to visit, Hermione laughed herself hoarse. She almost forgot about the war and the fates of the two of them. Almost.

Severus was leaving the grounds more often, which only meant the war was escalating outside the castle walls. The tension and anxiety was evident in Severus. Always the pessimist, he couldn't trust Reg alone with Hermione. Something about the way he looked at her bothered him. Hermione assumed it was only Severus's possessive nature taking hold. But the way Reg and her settled into a comfortable friendship was too easy and too good to be true.

A few weeks before the end of term, Hermione and Severus were studying for their NEWT exams. Yet, despite the importance of the tests, Severus was extremely distracted, gazing distantly out the window, his jaw set and brow furrowed.

"Anything the matter?" Hermione asked with concern.

Severus didn't respond immediately. His gaze was still fixed outside, but finally he sighed. "Reg is up to something."

The tone of his pronouncement annoyed Hermione. Perhaps a few months ago his suspicions would have been warranted. But since Sirius and Reg reconciled their differences, he was a totally different person. In fact, if it weren't for her fiancée's cynical attitude, she would call Regulus a new friend.

"How do you know?" she asked carefully, not wanting to set off his short temper.

"Well, he's been disappearing more often than even I have. And I feel that he is trying to avoid me. Weeks ago, we used to travel together, but now he is insisting on traveling alone. That only indicates the Dark Lord is meeting with him privately."

Hermione barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Shaking her head, she returned to her Runes notes. "Sev, I think all the sneaking around you've been doing is making your paranoid."

"It's making me more observant of my surroundings. It is not paranoia," he spat harshly.

"Don't get so defensive with me," she retorted. "I understand that generally you don't easily trust your peers, but why do you assume anything Regulus is engaged with involves you in any way?"

The look Severus gave her showed he was unnerved she didn't seem to harbor the same sentiments about Reg that he did. "Call it a Death Eater's instinct."

Hermione stiffened immediately as his words hit her. "Reg is our friend!"

"Hardly, Hermione. I almost fell for it myself, but he is still not as cunning as me. I don't want you spending any time alone with him."

"Are you really telling me who I can and cannot be friends with?" Hermione asked incredulously, her cheeks turning pink in anger.

"In this scenario, yes. It is for your own good."

Hermione slammed her book shut in disgust. "I may be marrying you, Severus, but that does not give you the right to control my relationships and ask permission to see others. I'm not the kind of woman who relinquishes the freedom to make my own choices, and that includes who I call my friends." She stood up and hastily stuffed her belongings into her bag. "Plus, I can look after myself pretty well. I'm not getting involved in any illegal activity, unlike some people I know."

"Are we back to this again?" an impatient Severus asked. "Don't be so dramatic. I'm not doing this for a power trip. I -"

"Shut up, Severus. If it weren't for you and your choices in political affiliation, I wouldn't even bee in this mess. And you have the indecency to try and control my life choices. I am not a child!"

The two of them glared angrily, Hermione still standing with her satchel draped haphazardly over her shoulder. She could see a tick in his jaw, as if he was trying to control his temper.

He let out a long sigh. "Hermione," he said, almost in a whisper, "Regulus has nothing to lose and a lot more to gain. Don't underestimate him."

Hermione didn't respond. She knew her fiancée meant well. It wasn't too long ago that Reg had tried to set her up for a heavy interrogation by Voldemort. Hermione had easily brushed that major indiscretion aside, but Severus was not quick to forget. He didn't want that to even happen again. So why was she taking it so personally?

Her independence was winning over. She had fought a war and survived. She could handle one scheming teenager if, in fact, Severus's instincts about Reg were valid. Staring at her fiancée with betrayal in her eyes, she wallowed thickly and left the table without another word.

Severus and Hermione never breached the subject again. It was awkward at first, but soon they settled for the 'agree-to-disagree' approach. Severus was constantly tense when Reg was around, but nothing amiss seemed to be occurring. In fact, Hermione could see that he was lowering his guard somewhat, especially after a rather enjoyable evening at Sirius and Regulus's flat they recently leased together in Hogsmeade. How could one be such a gracious host while all the while plotting the demise of a welcomed guest?

NEWTS were taken, trunks were packed, and graduation robes were fitted. It was the day of the Commencement Ceremony. The castle was fairly quiet, save for the minor preparations the staff was working on in the Great Hall. All that remained in the castle were the graduating 7th years and the siblings that were to attend the event. Regulus decided to stay behind last minute after he and his big brother reconciled. Hermione found him surrounded with trunks and objects of all sizes in the middle of the Entrance Hall, a perplexed expression on his face.

"Need help, Reg" Hermione asked politely.

Reg was shaken from his stupor as he finally noticed her standing there. He almost seemed to flinch at the sound of her voice. "Oh, hello Hermione." He took a look at the mess strewn around him. "I have a car waiting at the gate to take these things to our new flat. My dad would have helped, only mum demanded him to get rid of her spawned children's' belongings before she destroyed all of it herself. Apparently she's upset I'm moving in with her ostracized son."

She almost sympathized him, but remembered what type of woman Mrs. Black was: a bigoted, close-minded racist pureblood. Instead of responding in kind, she pulled out her want and levitated some of the boxes to stack on top of one another.

"I could get Severus to help us move all of this at once," she offered. "That way, it will save us extra trips back here."

"Two can handle it just fine, "he said automatically, then froze. "I—I mean," he added quickly, "I rather not wait for him. It's embarrassing enough to have people see me surrounded by all this junk. No, let's take care of it ourselves."

After their fourth trip, Hermione was getting tired and exasperated by the monotony of the chore. "Really, Reg. This is getting a bit tiresome."

"Well, you're halfway through it. Might as well finish the job."

"But I'm sure Severus would have figured out some sort of spell to send everything to the car at once by now."

"Listen, you offered to help me. It's a bit too late to back out now, lazy witch."

Hermione was startled by his sudden cruelness. "I beg your pardon?"

Reg sighed, his shoulders slumped forward in fatigue. "Okay, I apologize. That was a bit uncalled for."

"You think?"

"It's just, well, I am perfectly capable of getting things done without Severus's assistance."

Hermione was a little uncomfortable with Reg's tone of voice. He was acting a bit peculiar, not making eye contact. She also was wondering if he was tense that usual. He would jump at any noise, and more than once she caught him peering over his shoulder, as if he was checking if anyone was following them.

"Reg, I only suggested it so we could finish quicker. It has nothing to do with your competence."

"Well, I still prefer to not have that half-blood touch my things," he said, picking up a few more bags and headed toward the doors again.

Hermione scoffed in disbelief and followed after him. "What is wrong with you, Reg?"

"Nothing," he replied without looking back at her.

"Don't lie to me! You never cared about Severus being a half-blood before."

Regulus dropped his parcels on the dirt path and turned to face her, fury raging in his eyes. "It was just a reference to his blood line. Not everything has to be a personal attack, Hermione. Figures, your precious fiancée has clouded your train of thought and made you just as paranoid as him."

"I don't understand why you are so angry with me," she stated emphatically. "I've been defending your arse anytime Severus gripes about you. Contrary to what he thinks, he can't control who I am friends with." She bent down to pick up the boxes Reg threw down. "However, I know you are keeping something from me, and believe me, if you don't fess up soon, it is going to be very hard to stay friends with you."

Hermione continued down the path toward the carriage carrying the boxes. Reg sighed and followed, doubling his pace to catch up with her.

"Why doesn't Severus trust me by now?" he asked as they reached the cart. There was a tone of sadness in his voice.

"Severus doesn't fully trust anyone," she replied, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

"But he trusts you, and you only met him, what, eight months ago?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "He trusts what he knows about me. I am ashamed to admit that I haven't told him the whole truth about me. But he knows that, and surprisingly he's not pushing me to divulge. Maybe eventually, but for now…" her voice faded as she thought of the implications.

"So, you're lying to him?"

"No, I'm not. Everything that I have admitted to him has been the truth. You know what an accomplished Legillimens he is. It would have been futile to even fib a little. All the things I have kept from him he is aware of existing. I suppose open secrets are better than outright lies."

Regulus was rummaging through the cart and pulled out a few bottles of butterbeer. "I guess I deserve his scrutiny. I did try to sabotage you and him that one night."

"You mean when you tried to corner Sev into taking me to your Master?" she said firmly, taking a bottle from his outstretched hand.

"You keep too many secrets," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Whatever happened to respecting one's privacy?"

Reg popped off the cap and took a drink. "One has to earn that respect, and you did not."

She scoffed. "Well, I hope by now your opinion has changed," she said, raising the bottle to her lips.

"Yeah…yeah it has…"

Hermione sat down on the edge of the open flat bed and stared inquisitively at him. His voice, his demeanor, they all betrayed his collective posture. In fact, he was behaving as though he was shameful of something. With his legs dangling over the edge of the cart, swinging precariously, it was like watching a child desperately trying not to confess to a wrongdoing.

She took another small sip. "Reg, what—"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he blurted suddenly.

She blinked a few times. "Sorry for what?"

Reg opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He ran and hand through his hair, obviously fighting an internal battle with himself. Hermione swore she saw his lower lip tremble, but then again, everything in her line of vision was becoming hazy.

She blinked again, trying to get her surroundings in focus. The world around her began to spin, and she knew she was in deep waters. "What the hell did you do to me?" she cried, trying to get back on her feet, and far away from him as possible.

"You—you don't understand," Reg choked. "He put me in a corner. I didn't have any other choice."

"Who put you in a corner?"

"The Dark Lord," he whispered. "Please, please forgive me, Hermione. I promise nothing bad will happen to you. I –"

"Are you insane? No, no. Get the hell away from me, Reg." Hermione was beginning to panic. Whatever he had done to her made it impossible for her to escape. But she had to try.

She stumbled her way a few steps before tripping, but she managed to get back up, determined to return to the safe confines of the castle. But her vision was fading with each passing second, and it was getting more and more difficult for her to stand on her two feet.

Her legs crumpled beneath her. "What did you do to me?" she asked again.

Reg stooped down and help her back on her feet. "I laced your drink with a sleeping potion." He guided her back to the car, the gesture contrasting the fact that he had drugged her. "Mind your head as you get inside, and get comfortable. It will be at least a four hour trip."

"Where…where are you taking me?" she slurred, her eyes unfocused and glazed.

Regulus was tucking blankets around her lap gently. "Someplace private. But it will be clean and comfortable. He only wishes to speak to you. Nothing more."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't be fooled, Reg. He has a deeper motive than you know.

Reg left the cab and got into the driver side, locking up and gearing to leave. "Relax. If all goes as planned, you'll be back here with your lover by dawn."

Her surroundings were fading fast. "If anything happens to me, you're the only one to blame, and my death will be on your conscious for the rest of your miserable existence." Then, Hermione stopped fighting and lost consciousness.

The Commencement ceremony was dull, in Severus's point of view. Thankfully, it wasn't a long, drawn out affair. A few speeches from the Heads of Houses and Dumbledore, and then the Minister of Magic called out the names of the graduates by Houses. Diplomas and certificates would be delivered later that summer.

But because they had the seventh years sit with their own Housemates, Severus had a difficult time trying to find Hermione. He cursed himself earlier when he dawdled in the hospital wing with Trammell and Slughorn, for it wasted precious time he could have spent with Hermione. He assumed she'd come and find him later on, but she never showed up.

Of course, Severus understood that she had to say her farewells to her classmates. Who knew when she would see them next, especially since she was leaving the country with him. What bothered him was how she skipped the final rehearsal for the ceremony. Hermione would never skive off an event so important.

A sinking feeling was settling in his stomach with each passing minute. Being a Prefect, he was sitting with the other seven. Remus was only a few chairs away.

"Lupin, have you seen Hermione?" he whispered as the Minister continued to ramble out names of graduates.

Remus turned his head, frowning slightly. "Not since breakfast. I figured she was either with you or your family."

"She missed rehearsal. And there is no way she'd be with my mum. They never met."

Severus could detect a flicker of fear in Remus's face. "I'm sure she's here somewhere, Sev. Probably was running late or something…"

The ceremony dragged on slower than before, now that Severus was concerned about Hermione's absence. His legs jittered nervously and he could feel his palms clam up as he gripped the hem of his robes tightly. He couldn't stand up fast enough when the ceremony was complete. But now how was he to find her? Remus had no notion. Who else would know?

Adversaries didn't matter anymore. He was desperate to find Hermione.

The crowds were oppressive with smiling faces and embraces. Severus was now concerned whether he was going to find the Gryffindors before they left. But it was hard to miss Lily's flaming hair in a sea of black robes. He squeezed his way past the chaos and almost lost his footing as he stumbled over the remaining trunks and parcels. Finally, he reached Lily.

Despite their previous amicable meeting, Lily was surprised to hear him speak to her. She greeted him with a pleasant smile. "We finally did it! Seemed so quick, these past seven years, hasn't it, Sev?"

Severus nodded, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Lily's parents were already staring hesitantly at him. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Evans," he said politely.

"Good evening to you, Severus," Lily's mother replied in kind, "and I suppose congratulations are in order. Lily mentioned your plans for this fall."

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans, but I'm sure Lily most likely overplayed it up slightly."

"Such modesty," she chuckled while her husband continued to scrutinize him stiffly. "You haven't changed at all, Severus."

"No. No he hasn't." Mr. Evans finally broke his silence. He placed two protective hands on his daughter's shoulders. "I'm sure you have heard the news of Lily's engagement."

"Daddy, please," Lily interrupted, turning a shade of red that rivaled her own hair color.

"I did, Mr. Evans, and I wish her all the luck and patience in the world."

"Daddy," Lily intervened, trying to get him to relax, "Severus is also getting married this summer before he moves North."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Mrs. Evans chimed in before her husband could make a scathing comment. "I daresay we'd love to meet the girl."

"Of course, Mrs. Evans. But first, could I have a word with your daughter in private?" Mrs. Evans furrowed her brow in confusion, but nodded. Lily's father reluctantly loosened his grip.

As soon as they were beyond ear-shot of the adults, Lily became concerned. "What's the matter, Severus?"

He finally lowered his guard. "I don't want to panic, but it seems as if Hermione's disappeared, and no one has a clue where she's gone."

Lily bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Sev. I haven't seen her since after breakfast. I assumed she was with you."

That was not what he hoped to hear. "Do you know if anyone else saw her?"

Lily sighed, slightly annoyed. "Is that your way of getting me to talk to James?" After the look Severus gave her, she shook her head in defeat. "Fine, I'll go ask him for you."

She crossed the crowd a few yards and found James with Sirius. Severus studied the couple from a far, watching the jovial expression on the vermin's face turn into worry, then disgust, then hatred when he turned and locked eyes on him. Suddenly, James stormed away from Lily, with the girl trying her best to calm him down before a full battle ensued.

"So, you finally did it," James spat as a greeting. "You got in so deep with whatever you'd been up to that you managed to harm her. This is the repercussions of your actions."

"Get a grip on yourself, Potter. Stop pretending that you care. If you did, you'd notice she was missing long before I had." He turned to face Lily. "And you wonder why I didn't want to ask him in the first place!"

She frowned sympathetically, glaring at her impatient fiancée. "I'm sorry, Sev. I didn't think he'd jump to these conclusions."

"Lily, stay out of this," James said angrily.

"Don't talk to her like that!"

"Boys, just stop this, for once! You're creating a scene."

"I don't care, Lily!" James exclaimed. "Hermione is missing and I know Snape is responsible. He's the only -"

"Save your conspiracy theories for someone who cares, Potter. Just tell me if you have seen her at all today so I can actually try and find her instead of running around in a dead circle!"

Sirius, who had stayed behind, was now drawn into the debacle by their loud shouts. He reached James's side as Severus was yelling. "You know," he threw in casually, "I bet my brother would know where she is."

Severus narrowed his eyes, not liking was Sirius was implying. "Why would you think that?" he asked dangerously.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I haven't seen him since my father left the castle earlier this afternoon. And…well…could you really blame the girl if she had a change of heart about you?"

That was a low blow to Severus. 'Say that again, Black, and I will tell you the real truth about your younger brother," he sneered, enjoying watching the amused gleam in his eyes fade as dread replaced it. Severus smirked. "That's what I thought. You really think a woman like Hermione would lower her standards to the level of the Noble House of Black? Would she trade it a man who's got everything going for him for a child who hasn't a prayer in the world for success unless he grovels to the Death Eaters?"

Sirius swallowed thickly. "You think you are better than Reg? I dare you to tell me that you aren't one of those Death Eaters he grovels to."

"That," he whispered, "is none of your business. Either way, I do not need the leverage of any person or group to make great achievements. Your brother, unfortunately, cannot say the same for himself. A name can only take you so far."

Sirius did not seem to have the words to fight back, which only elated Severus further. "I thank you, Black, for you input. Hermione _is_ probably with your brother, but for reasons you are not aware of."

Severus turned swiftly on his heels toward the exit without another word. He did not want the Gryffindors to see the fear in his eyes at what he discovered. He hated to admit it, but Hermione was definitely with Regulus. But, unlike what Sirius implied, she was no willing consort.

He was running down the path toward the Apparition barrier, ignoring the looks from the families of his peers that were mingling about in the warm twilight evening. There could only be one place Reg could have take Hermione. He just hoped he wasn't too late.


End file.
